


Something Different

by cloudsNcoffee



Series: Why Don't We [1]
Category: Why Don't We (Band), Why Don't We Music
Genre: Age Difference, Boyband, Dancing, Dancing and Singing, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship, Love, Minor Character Death, Misunderstandings, Multi, Romance, Secrets, Singing, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, Teenagers, Truth or Dare, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-01-18 12:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12387873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsNcoffee/pseuds/cloudsNcoffee
Summary: Eli dances like gravity doesn’t exist. I dance like I have cement in my bones, and all of her gravitational pull is acting on me.Or: Jonah might be irresistible, but she's something different.He's in way over his head.





	1. Can't Look Away

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:  
> While this was written with the public persona of the band and their team in mind, the following work is fiction.  
> I don't know them, own them, or claim to have any insight into their real lives. 
> 
>  
> 
> This is different for me, but I've had fun writing it. Unbeta-ed, please be kind. 
> 
>  
> 
> Caution: This story acknowledges the existence of sex, between consenting adults. It's not explicit.  
> 

"Alright, alright. Settle down!" Dave, our manager, yells. Daniel gets one last jab in on Corbyn while Zach slides basically into my lap in a bid to get couch space. He’d called us to the living room for a meeting, but we’re kind of a mess so the walk from our rooms had turned into a halfhearted wrestling match. "I've got someone coming in to work on your stamina." Dave tells us when he thinks he has our attention.  
Jack immediately snickers. Dave does not look amused, and I try to hide my own reaction. Corbyn just grins.  
"A trainer, and choreographer." He explains.  
This gets more attention. We’re all staring at him now.  
"Wait, like dance?" Daniel asks. I sometimes forget how much he's done before, the radio shows and television appearances. His knowledge of this kind of thing reminds me; his season of American Idol isn’t only good for the funny clips.  
"Yes. Exactly like that." Dave kind of stares us down, "Eli is fantastic, and you will be respectful and pay attention." He's in full Dad mode, so we straighten up. Dance though... The doorbell rings and Dave smiles, "Right on time."  
We're look at each other as he walks away. I read the contract when I signed it, I will dance. I'll do anything for this shot, but they're bringing somebody in to teach us choreography.

It's a like a wire got cut, a fuse in my brain not quite connecting. I thought we were going One Direction, but it looks like we're going *NSYNC.

  
Dave comes back from the door with a tall skinny girl. She looks like she could be a model, her white blonde hair is pulled back in a bun and her face is dominated by big green eyes. It feels like she’s looking through us when she’s introduced. I wonder what she sees; Zach’s red cheeks, Corbyn’s bleached hair, Jack’s crazy curls, Daniel’s gap toothed smile, and me. Dave points to each of us and gives her our names.  
He turns to us, "Gentlemen, this is Eli Kelley.” I honestly assumed Eli would be a guy, now I’m staring this girl.  
“Hello.” She says, pulling her backpack off, "I don't like wasting time, and I understand you’re rather busy too,” She pulls some papers out of her bag and holds them out in front of Corbyn. "Do you have pencils?"  
When none of us answer or move to take the papers she’s holding, Dave throws a handful of pens on the coffee table in front of us. It makes Zach jump, shaking us from our stupor. She smiles a little, one half of her mouth smirked up.  
I grab the stack of papers and pass them around. It looks like some kind of quiz.  
“I’m your choreographer for this tour, and any television appearances for the term of my contract,” She explains, and I look up to meet her eyes, “I’d like you guys to fill those out so I can get a better idea where we’re starting from, and what you’d like to get from this.”  
Corbyn pokes out his tongue, “Does that matter? What we’d like to get?”  
“You’ll find out.”  
Corbyn pales, and Zach laughs.  
Eli watches his face, gesturing towards the paperwork, “I need to get an idea of where to begin tomorrow.”  
“Tomorrow?” Jack asks.  
“You’ll want to get a good night’s sleep.”  
I get this sinking feeling she looks a lot easier to push around than she really is.  
   
In the morning, Dave loads us into the sprinter and takes us into the city. The building we pull up to is in a decent part of town, but it looks like a warehouse. Eli comes out of a set of big metal doors when the van parks. We pile out, and Dave greets her. We exchange good-mornings, but it’s too early for this. She’s far too awake at this hour. I decide it’s a bad sign for us.  
“Okay.” She claps her hands together. “We don’t have much time, I’m going to show you the studio, then we’ll get started.” We follow her into the building. It’s bright inside, which surprises me. It’s broken up into different rooms, but she leads us to a big studio in the back. There’s a row of windows lining the ceiling along the outside walls, Two of the walls are covered in mirrors, one is concrete painted black, and last is glass into the hall. Dave makes a go-on gesture and situates himself in the chairs on the outside the window wall.

In the studio, Eli points out the tape on the floor; two outlined patterns of a stage, one in blue and one in red, each facing the other. No matter where we preform the stage orientation won’t matter. We’ll have practiced for either direction.  
“That’s kind of brilliant.” I say, without thinking, but it is. That was a problem on the last tour, not every stage is the same and details like that really do matter.  
She looks over at me, smiling. She’s got dimples, I didn’t notice last night and they makes her look younger.  
“Yeah.” Corbyn agrees, “We kind of tripped up with that last time.” It breaks the moment, her dimples disappearing. Eli shows us the props, a line of microphones and wires on a folding table.  
She finishes walking us through rest of the equipment in the studio then walks over to a set of speakers and plugs her phone in. “I’ve got your set list on here, you’re welcome to sing, but for now you might want to focus on your feet. Let’s start at the top.”  
“Wait.” Jack says, “The top, like the beginning, like there’s choreography for the whole thing?”  
She scrunches her nose,“That’s the job, according to my contract.”  
“I thought it was just the big ones.”  
She looks him over, the directs us where she wants us to go, ignoring his comment or answering by saying nothing. The feeling I got yesterday, that this girl won’t be pushed around seems more accurate by the minute.

Eli’s efficient. Her voice caries over the music and she teaches in ways that are pretty easy to understand. Luckily for this tour, there isn’t as much dancing as there is moving around the stage, and not tipping over ourselves. Her directions make sense, but it’s still work.

Within an hour I’m sweating. Jack and I look at each other and I know we’re both thinking the same thing: how are we going to do this on stage?  
Neither of us are great dancers. Eli starts adding real choreography to the title track and we both fall apart.  
I cannot get my feet to move the way she keeps demonstrating. When Eli does it, it looks effortless and cool. Somehow when I do it, I end up backwards and look like I have no control of my body. Eli comes up to me after my third disastrous attempt.  
She places both of her hands on my hips. Goosebumps breakout immediately. I tell myself it’s because her hands are cold, skinny fingers stretched out on my sides, but that isn't the only reason; she's pretty this close, huge green eyes and too big bottom lip. I shove that thought out of my head. This is my job, and hers, and I can’t think about her like that.  
"You've got to…” She pushes at my hips.  
"I don't think Jonah's much of a dancer." Zach jokes from the other side of the room. I want to throw something at him. Out of all of us, he's easily the most clumsy, but somehow he's better at this than I am. At least Jack is in the same boat. Corbyn and Daniel are practicing in the corner and watching me in amusement too.  
"Is the counting bothering you?" Eli steps back, her hands no longer distracting me.  
Jack tries it again, and somehow trips over his shoe, landing firmly on his ass. He mutters a choice cruse, causing Daniel to tut disapprovingly while he helps him up anyway.  
"I'm done for the day." Jack says, a little sour, leaving the room before anyone can stop him.  
“That’s alright.” Eli says, seeming unsurprised one of her student escaped. I want to ask how many times she's done this. She really does look young even with her competence. She addresses the room, “Good effort today, guys. Tomorrow we'll talk training and diet, then do some more choreography work.”

At her dismissal the rest of the guys rush to make their escape. I stay behind though, helping Eli clean up. I put the microphones away and she looks me over, "Do you have any questions?"  
"Not especially..." I stumble over my words, “Actually… I don't think I get the rules here." I try to show her the steps I can't get right. I won’t be able to stop thinking about this until I can do it.  
"As long as you're dancing, you can break the rules."  
I raise an eyebrow, and it makes her laugh. That sound feels like victory. She's hardly smiled since we started; I don’t know if she’s nervous or just serious, but if we’re stuck together for the time being, she should get comfortable.  
"There's choreography, but if something like this,” She walks through the moves, shifting the footing, "feels better, you're welcome to try it. This sort of thing is all optics. It has to look the same, not be the same."  
I try to repeat what she did and it's much better. Not as cool looking, but I end up facing the right way. When I look up, she’s still smiling, "Good. We'll work on it tomorrow.”  
"Okay. Thank you." She’s surprised at that, me thanking her, and I know I’m going to harass the guys about it later. Maybe we didn’t chose to dance on our own, but it's not Eli’s fault.  
She walks me to the door in silence.  
I’m halfway into the parking lot when she says, “Goodbye, Jonah."  
“Bye, Eli.” I call over my shoulder and watch her close the door.  
What on earth has Dave gotten us into?  
 

The next day begins same way as the one before; Dave waking us up too early, shoving breakfast at us while herding us into the sprinter.  
Instead starting with dance today though, Eli walks us through our new diet. Crushing our spirits with nutrition guides before crushing our bodies with new more complicated choreography. We’re hardly an hour in, but even Corbyn and Zach are begging for a water break. Eli relents and calls for fifteen minutes of freedom.  
The rest of the guys wander off, but I stay in front of the mirror still concentrating on my feet. A little voice in the back of my mind tells me they’re going to kick me out if I can’t get it together. What’s the point of the guy who can’t dance in a boyband?

“Do you have younger siblings?” Eli asks, out of nowhere, coming to stand next to me.  
“I… Yes?” I give up on my feet, turning to face her.  
“How many?”  
I don’t really know where this line of questioning is going, but I’m not making a fool of myself for a moment so I play along, “Two sisters.”  
Eli places her hands on my shoulders. She’s really tall for a girl, “I’ve got little brothers.” Her dimples make an appearance, “What don’t you miss about your sisters, Jonah?” She pulls at my shoulders. I try to relax, let my body follow hers.  
I don’t even have to think about my answer to her question. There’s a lot I miss, but one thing I most definitely do not, “The bathroom. They always have a million products and hair in the drain. I don’t miss that, like at all.”  
Eli does something with her foot, kicks at one of mine and I move it the direction she’s pushing. “My little brother never remembers to put his shoes away.” She moves me again through these motions, her hands tugging, then pushing, her feet directing mine, like we’re doing some weird waltz, “I think I’ve tripped over them a hundred times.”  
“Wish I could say he’ll grow out of it, but you should see our room.” I joke.  
Her nose crinkles, “You share with Zach and Daniel right?”  
I nod. I’m not sure when we mentioned that, but I’m not surprised she knows. Corbyn and Daniel share the other, bigger room. They keep it cleaner. She starts our waltz again.  
“We’re the less OCD ones.”  
She drops one hand from my shoulder, still moving with me, “One of my roommates in college was like that, not terrible but not organized. Now that I’ve moved out, he’s suddenly Mr. Clean.”  
This is the first time she’s mentioned anything about school, or anything personal. We’re still alone in the studio and I’m curious. I really can’t tell how old she is. She’s got one of those faces; if she’s been in college she has to be at least my age, but she could pass for sixteen.  
“Where did you go to school?”  
She blushes. The tips of her ears going red, and it strikes me as kind of adorable.  
“Juilliard.”   
“Holy shit.” It’s out of my mouth before I can moderate. Her other hand leaves my shoulder but she keeps moving. “The crazy talent school, Juilliard?” I ask.  
She nods.  
“That’s… That’s really impressive.”  
She gives me a half smile, stepping back, “Try it again.”  
I frown but do as she says, only to find it possible now. She was walking me through the motions the whole time. Distracting me with questions while she showed my body what to do, it’s kind of genius. I jump at the end, pumped I actually did it.  
“There you go.”  
I want to hug her but I don’t think that’s welcomed. Instead I force as much gratitude as I can into, “Thank you.”  
Maybe I won’t fail at this and have to leave the band after all.  
 

The weeks before our tour starts pass in a sort of blur, late nights messing around with the guys, afternoons spent in meetings or recording, and mornings spent in the warehouse practicing with Eli.  
The day our tour starts, I’ve learned enough to be confident dancing on stage, and a lot more about her. The way she’d played me, teaching choreography asking unexpected questions, worked. Whenever I got stuck she’d ask me something new, and I would get her answers in return. I’ve gotten an idea of her through the fragments she’s given me, but now she feels like a puzzle. The more I get to know her, the more confused I am.  
Eli’s a good teacher. She hasn’t played that game with the other guys, but she didn’t need to. When one of them struggled, she fixed it with patience and endless other tricks; she’d figured us out in days. Jack’s better if he isn’t looking in the mirror, Daniel and Corbyn are easier to instruct if they’re separated from their phones, and Zach soaks up praise. She pulled us together until the entire set is tight.  
When we get to the bus we’ll be calling home for the next five weeks, there’s already a small crowd standing around. The team traveling with us, our management, some family, our opening act, our photographer, August, and our tour manager, Eben.  
Eli arrives as we’re unload the van. She’s going to be traveling with us for the entire tour, but all she has with her are one carry-on size suitcase and her black leather backpack.  
I glance at the other girls on this trip; they’ve got massive suitcases. A couple of them might even have two. I think Corbyn’s packed more than Eli has.  
Jack looks her over, “Morning, Eli. You know we’re gone for, like, over a month, right?”  
She kicks at her suitcase, “Laundry mats exist for a reason.”  
“Can’t argue with that!” Dave says, “Let’s load up, Eben?”  
Eben tries to look serious while he organizes us. He does okay, but we’re itching to get inside and explore. We haven’t had a real tour bus before. I have to hold Zach back with a hand on his shoulder. We’re going to be spending so much on that thing in the next month, a few extra minutes outside won’t hurt us.  
Eben explains the band, the parent chaperone (currently Zach’s Dad), August, Eli and himself will be on the bus. Everyone else will sleep in hotels and ride in the sprinter van. It surprises me that Eli’s staying with us, I don’t really know why she wouldn’t travel with the rest of the crew.  
She reads my mind, or maybe my terrible poker face, as she follows me up the steps of the bus.  
“No one trusts a bus full of guys not to be stupid, half of my job is to take care of you. I can’t do that from a hotel room.” She whispers, “One adult didn’t seem like enough.”  
This seems funny to me. She’s hardly older than I am, but I’m selfishly glad she’s stuck with us. She’s nice to talk to.  
We settle into the bus on our way to the first venue. No one says much. We’re all feeling the nerves. We’ve done this before, but this tour is bigger and even the excitement isn’t enough to beat down the pressure to preform tonight.  
As we depart the bus to get ready, Eli catches my wrist, “You’re going to kill it.”  
She gives me her little half smirk, and for some reason I believe her.  
Of course, she’s right, we absolutely crush it.  
 

I wake up the next morning to the smell of coffee. My throat is sore and the curtain hiding my bus bunk lets in a lot of light. I have no idea where we are and I feel almost giddy. We played a sold out show last night. I slept on a tour bus. Someone’s made coffee. If I wasn’t cramped from sleeping in the small space, I’d think I was still dreaming. I stumble down from my bunk thankful I didn’t get a third row assignment and make my way into the front. The whole bus feels quiet, even though it’s moving. I don’t think any of the other guys are up yet.  
When I get to the kitchenette, it’s empty except for Eli standing by the counter. Her braid is loose, and she’s wearing a men’s tee shirt over leggings. It somehow makes her look even slimmer. She’s got a thermos between her hands that reads, ‘without ballet, there is no pointe.’  
I snort at the pun which brings her attention to me.  
“I made coffee, if you want...”  
“I do.” I respond too quickly, judging by her smile. At least she finds me amusing, “Thanks.”  
“I didn’t bring creamer or anything.” She says, apologetically.  
“I drink it black.” I pour myself a cup nearly to the rim of the mug, then turn back to her, “And I didn’t even think to bring coffee.”  
She shrugs one sharp shoulder, motioning towards the booth. I follow her lead and slide in across from her.  
For a while, we drink our coffee and look out the window. I sneak glances at her, watching the way her throat works when she swallows. I don’t know anyone except my Dad who drinks coffee black, but she seems to actually enjoy it. It is really good coffee.

“Where would you wake up, if you got to pick?”  
I don’t know what it says, how endeared I’m becoming to this; her questions about whatever’s on her mind. I do know that like her attention, especially now when we aren’t dancing.  
“Forever, or tomorrow?” Eli’s not usually this vague.  
She looks away from the window, “Are they different?”  
“Yes.”  
“Tell me about both.”  
“I’d love to see Europe. So maybe I’d wake up in Rome tomorrow...”  
“Milan is crazy. I got to dance there once, it was incredible.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yes, but Paris is my favorite.”  
“Why?”  
“Have you heard of the Latin district?”  
“I think so, but remind me?” The name is vaguely familiar, but I don’t really remember what it is.  
“It’s where the first universities were. It’s all cobblestone and architecture. I accidentally walked six miles looking around once.” She spins her thermos in her hands, “I love basically everything about France, even the language feels like a lullaby.”  
“I love listening to other languages. How many times have you been to France?”  
“A handful. Sometimes for dance, a few times for fun. Milo and I spent a summer there though, in college.” She’s told me about Milo before, her best friend and roommate in college.  
“That’s a lot of time.” A summer somewhere I don’t speak the language sounds intimidating.  
“Not enough. I would have done a year if I could, I like places with history.” We both drink more coffee, “What about forever?” She prompts, “Where would you wake up if you had to stay in one place?”  
I grab the back of my neck, “I used to think it would be boring, but I think I’d like to live in Minnesota. Close to my parents…” She looks like she understands.  
“Where would you want to wake up tomorrow?” As much as she gushed about Paris, it doesn’t seem like her answer.  
“Bali. I’ve never been.” She surprises me, “Southeast Asia is beautiful. I’d like to see more of it.”  
“All I know about it is from the Eat, Pray, Love movie. My mom made me see it with her.” I admit. She wrinkles her noise in a cute way.  
“It’s different, in real life. Still really beautiful though.”  
“Someday.” I empty my mug. I stand up and move to the sink, running water into the cup. Eli’s spinning a thin gold bracelet around her wrist when I look back towards her. I lean against the counter, “Where do you want to wake up forever?”  
She meets my eyes, “I’m not sure exactly. Somewhere quiet?” She adds softly, “Somewhere safe.”  
This settles in, and something about it makes it sound like she’s never had that, or at least hasn’t for a while. It kind of freezes me, her showing this vulnerability. It makes me want to hug her again or something.  
“Someday.” She mimics my answer before I try anything, and moves to wash her cup in the sink. She washes my mug too, and I dry them both, soaking in the peace of her next to me, the sounds of the road and our breathing in companionable silence, before the guys wake up to shatter it.  
 

Later everyone gathers in lounge at the back of the bus. Everyone except Zach’s Dad, who has to ride in the cab when he’s awake since he’s suffering from motion sickness. We’re all still getting our road legs to be honest. It’s a weird feeling.  
We’re messing around, passing time before our next stop, when Corbyn gets excited about a text from his girlfriend Christina, leading Eben to ask our thoughts about inviting an ex-girlfriend to a show. None of us have a great answer for him. Eli’s the only one that hasn’t commented. She’s sitting on the edge of the conversation messing with her phone when Jack asks her, “What about you?” She doesn’t act like she heard him. “Eli?”  
Her head snaps up. “Yes?”  
“Do you have a boyfriend?”  
She makes an expression I can’t quite read until she ask, “Why?”  
“We’re discussing appropriate ex behavior.” Jack explains.  
Eli eyes the group of us, settling on Eben, “What does she want?” I’m not sure how she knew we were talking about Eben, when she hadn’t been paying attention.  
He flushes, “I was thinking about inviting her to to the show in San Diego...” He’s a lot less sure explaining to Eli.  
Her mouth screws up to one side, “I don’t have a lot of experience with exes. I barely have one, but if you’re debating, you probably shouldn’t.”  
“Yeah...” Eben frowns.  
“Wait.” Corbyn says, “How do you barely have one ex-boyfriend? Aren’t you like twenty?”  
Eli looks at him, pained, “I’m almost twenty-three.”  
“And?” Jack prompts.  
Eli places her phone down, “I was with one guy for six years.”  
My brain freezes. I think the longest I’ve been with someone is six months. Corbyn is, rightfully, proud of his year long relationship. Six years is ridiculous.  
Daniel recovers fastest from this unexpected information, “Did it end badly?”  
“No. He’s great.” She doesn’t say it in any sort of lovesick way, but it’s clearly fond.  
I’m lost.  
“So you would invite him?” Eben asks.  
“Yes, but neither of us would think it was because I wanted into his pants.” She levels at him. Everyone laugh at Eben’s face. Zach looks like he can’t believe he heard a girl say that. I’m surprised too, but she’s obviously read Eben like a book.  
He blushes. “She’s....”  
“Why did you break up?” Eli asks almost gently after her jab.  
“We’re... not good together.” Eben says, “Too different.”  
“As in you’re not a morning person and she is, or she wants to homestead in Alaska and you hate camping?”  
“The second one. Definitely the second one.”  
Eli tilts her head, “If you don’t want to discuss what you both hope to get out of it first, don’t invite her.”  
He looks like he wants to protest, but Eli’s right.  
“I don’t even know where to start with that...”  
“You’re seem pretty straightforward, Eben. Think about her as a person before a body and you’ll be fine.”  
This makes everyone quiet. Eli isn’t bothered by that, she just picks her phone up and gets back to whatever she was doing before Jack wanted her opinion. Except Zach can’t leave it, I can see his mind still tripping over something she’s said. He really isn’t the type to leave anything unsaid.  
“Six years?” He finally asks.  
Eli is listening this time. She blows out a slow breathe, “Six years.”  
“Did he break your heart or something?”  
I actually want to know that too. The more I learn about Eli, the more interesting she is, which is weird. Most of the time, the more I know about a girl makes her boring to me. Eli isn’t like that at all.  
“No.” She levels at Zach. Something in her eyes reads, you’re treading dangerous waters. Proceed with caution. "If I’m being honest, I think we broke our own hearts, in the end.”  
Zach makes a confused sound, Jack makes a sympathetic noise, and Corbyn changes the subject, but I can’t look away from Eli.  
 

 

 

 


	2. Not My Type

 

We’re on the bus, moving on after a show. Half the band is wet from showering, the other half wet from sweat. This tour is crazy. Fans knowing the words to our songs and singing them back still feels surreal.  
I’ve settled into a corner of the couch to look for something interesting on my phone. Daniel’s disappeared with August to go over the pictures, and Corbyn’s gone to call Christina. Eben has his headphones on to work on his own music, with Jack sprawled on the other half of the sofa on his phone. Instead of showering, Zach calls out, “I’m going live!”  
I'm too tired to point out how gross he is. Jack seems to consider it before shaking his head. It’s not worth it.  
Eli had been sitting on the counter in the kitchenette, but she hops down at Zach’s announcement, flashing us a small smile before disappearing to the cab with Bill, the bus driver. They've made friends since being on the road, which I wouldn’t have guessed, but Eli actually gets him talking.

I tune out for a while, playing solitaire like the old man they accuse me of being, before getting lost in Twitter. I'm interrupted by Zach loudly complaining about a zit, then getting excited about using toothpaste on it, a suggestion from someone online. Jack tells him it works, which Eben seconds, so Zach puts toothpaste on his forehead before telling his live audience he'll let them know how it turns out.  
After he's shut it off, Zach sits on my feet, trying to get himself a space on the couch.  
When Eli comes back from the front her eyes snag on Zach's forehead.  
"Instagram said it would make a zit go away," He tells her proudly.  
She pulls a face, that adorably skeptical nose scrunch, “Sure."  
I forget about her reaction when she yawns, stretching. A little strip of her stomach shows, all pale skin, and I nearly bite my tongue.

  
It comes back to me the next day after yet another radio station when we pile back into the bus, and I realize Eli’s not with us. I don’t even remember her leaving. I’m about to ask the guys if they know where she is when she turns up, Sephora bag in tow. This is even weirder, because as far as I know, she doesn’t wear makeup.  
"Uh, Eli?" Jack scratches at the shaved side of his head.  
"Yes, Jack?"  
"What's the makeup for?" He asks.  
She looks confused before realizing which bag is in her hand, “Not makeup.” She laughs, setting it in Zach's lap.  
He looks like she's handed him a bomb.  
She rolls her eyes. “Your skin is breaking out.”  
He nods but doesn't move toward the bag.  
She pulls the tissue paper out, “Toothpaste is a fine solution occasionally, but everything in here is at least three times better.”  
Zach unfreezes and starts pulling out stuff. An assortment of things end up next to him on the couch. "Thank you?" He tries, but seems confused.  
Eli picks up products and starts explaining. “When you go to bed, you use this to clean your face. You never remember to wash it." This is true. Zach is the worst at hygiene. He showers enough, but he's lazy, and also, sixteen. She goes on about the other stuff she’s bought him, ending with SPF lotion, “It smells nice too."  
"Oh it does!" Zach has it practically up his nose.  
Corbyn comes back from FaceTiming Christina then, zeroing in on the shiny container, some kind of mask Eli had explained. "Is that GlamGlow?" He sounds way too excited about it. If his girlfriend wasn’t a beauty YouTuber, I would be more confused, but I know he watches her videos when he’s lonely. Eli confirms it is, and Corbyn grabs at it, making puppy dog eyes at her, ”Can I?"  
"Hey!" Zach protests. "That's my present."  
Corbyn takes in the scene in front of him, laughing, "Oh man, Bro." He places a hand on Zach's shoulder, "You got mom-ed."  
Eli pinches him, "Be nice. He needed help and," She smoothly takes the mask from Corbyn's grasp and deposits it into Zach's lap, "that does belong to him."  
Corbyn pouts at Eli, then turns it on Zach. Zach looks like he might refuse, before his expression clears. He tips his head towards the rest of us, "Only if they do it too."  
If anything this makes Corbyn smile wider.

This is how I end up in a bus full of boys, and one too pretty thoughtful girl, with a face mask on. We laugh too hard and eat pizza  while watching Mean Girls just to round out the experience.  
It's the first night I haven't felt overwhelmed in a really long time. Even before this tour started our lives have been insane recently. When we're headed for bed I catch Eli’s expression, satisfaction and pride. She knew exactly what we needed even when we didn’t.

I want to kiss her. Not because she’s pretty, or around, but because she’s kind. That’s a lot more concerning.

 

We’re in a new city, supposedly setting up the stage for tonight, but mostly goofing off when Dave says we can break for foof. Eli’s on the phone when we leave, waving us on without her. The band separates for lunch, and Zach, Eben and I make it back to the venue first.  
We come in through the back door, and there’s music playing. I glance at Zach and Eben, but they don’t seem to be expecting it either. I head up towards the stage, and stop barely inside the wings.  
Eli’s dancing.  
She’s wearing the clothes she’s had on, but she’s replaced her sneakers for pointe shoes. She’s stunning.  
She leaps and spins and pushes her body in ways that don’t seem real. When she’s in the air it’s like she’s caught there, hanging for seconds longer than seem possible.  
Eli dances like gravity doesn’t exist.

As the song winds down, she slows until she’s spinning in center stage on her toes.  
Eli’s graceful, but always too lanky to be anything other than a little out of place. Her body makes sense like this. She fits this.

When she stops, and the song ends, Zach starts clapping. Eben and I join in causing Eli to turn towards us. She blushes and tugs on her bracelet, “I didn’t see you come in.”  
“The music wasn’t quiet.” Eben explains.  
“I’m sorry.” Eli says, with real apology in her voice.  
Eben’s touchy about the sound system once he’s set up, but I don’t want her to feel guilty.  
I’d really like to see her do that again. “No, you’re so good.”  
“Yeah.” Zach says, “You should do that, like, all the time.”  
Eli drop her wrist and winks at Zach, “That’s an idea, but the shoes aren’t that comfortable.”  
“Really?” He walks towards her. Eben and I follow him.  
She looks him over, then bends down and takes them off, “Do you want to see?” She holds them out to him.  
Her feet are red, covered in dime-sized bruises, and one of her toes looks like it might be bleeding. She doesn’t seem bothered by it.  
Zach takes a shoe, holding it carefully in both hands.  
The rest of the guys show up then, walking through the front of the house loudly.  
Corbyn hops up on the stage, “Whatcha doing? Why are you barefoot?”  
Jack climbs up after him. August and Daniel take the stairs like normal people.  
“I...” Eli starts.  
“She was dancing,” Eben explains, “and she’s way better than you guys.”  
Eli shakes her head, but she’s smiling. She focuses on Zach, “Have you ever held a pair of these before?” The rest of us gather around her listening too.  
“No.” He turns it over in his hand.  
“You don’t have to be gentle.” Eli demonstrates the strength of the shoe on the one she’s still holding, bending it between her hands, before pointing to the components, “That’s the ribbon, the shank, toe box, and this part is the vamp,” Zach touches everything after she names it, nodding along, “and that’s the wings.” She finishes, noticing the rest of her audience. She hands me the other shoe. It’s surprisingly light but stiff. “You can pass them around.”  
“These look pretty clean?” I ask her, handing the shoe to Corbyn. They look like they would get dirty quick.  
“This pair is new. I make them last about a week now, but there’s been times I went through three pairs a day.”  
“What?” Jack exclaims, handling a shoe he’s been passed. “Aren’t they, like, super expensive?”  
“Some of them are. I don’t really...” She lifts one shoulder, collecting them back from Daniel when everyone’s gotten a turn. “I don’t pay attention to that. Every company I’ve ever been with has covered them.”  
“Can you show us something?” Jack asks, making his best pathetic face.  
Eli sits down on the stage to tie her shoes back on. When they’re secure she stands up pushing all the way up on her toes. She holds herself there for a while. She brings her feet down only to push back up and place one foot against the inside of her knee to spin in slow circles. She doesn’t even wobble. She reminds me of the tiny dancer in my sister’s jewelry box.  
“Why do they wear out so fast?” I ask her, once she’s facing me again.  
“It’s usually the shank. It’s a preference thing, but I like...” She sinks down then pushes up again. “The stiffness. When it starts to fade I can’t get the same height.”  
“How long can you do that for?” Zach asks.  
“In college I used to do it on accident… For hours, probably.”  
“You went to college?” Daniel says.  
Eli drops down. “What else would I have been doing since high school, forming a boyband?” It’s sarcastic, and Eben and I both try not to laugh when Daniel blushes. I didn’t tell the other guys when I found out. Maybe I should have.  
I take pity on them, “She went to Juilliard, bro.”  
Daniel looks blown away.  
“Seriously?” Corbyn‘s eyes are huge. “Eli?”  
She nods.  
“Whoa. I keep forgetting you aren’t our age.” Corbyn says.  
“I’m so glad I am not.”  
“Can you…” August starts, “I mean, can we watch you?”  
Eli looks to Eben, “If it’s okay with you?”  
He rolls his eyes. “You didn’t need permission the first time.”  
“But you’re here now.” She teases, and I really like it. I knew she couldn’t stay serious when faced with our ridiculousness.  
Eben sighs, faking like he’s put out, and we leave the stage.  
Eli puts a new song on and throws herself into it. She’s exactly as flawless as she was when she thought she was alone, and it makes me wonder why she’s doing our choreography instead of this.  
I don’t get a chance to ask though because when she finishes and we applaud, we get yelled at for being late to get ready for meet and greet.  
 

I’m still thinking about it the next day, while we’re out shopping. It doesn’t add up. There’s a reason she isn’t dancing professionally, and I’m missing it somehow.  
I haven’t gotten Eli alone to ask though, and it seems like a personal question.

We’re browsing a shop Jack’s dragged us to when a girl with dark curls basically hurtles into Corbyn. He notices her right before they collide and scoops her out of the air.

It takes me a moment to realize the girl is his girlfriend.  
Corbyn always greets Christina like this, big sweeping hugs that last a little too long, and you can see he thinks about not setting her down.  
The rest of us drift together watching their reunion, snickering at how wide Corbyn's smiling. He keeps asking, “Oh my god! What are you doing here?” without giving her time to answer. Christina is positively beaming.  
Eli comes around the corner and looks to Corbyn and Christina. Corbyn’s rocking her side to side, still hugging her, but her feet are back on the ground.  
"Christina Harris?" Eli asks, her voice high in surprise.  
Christina's head whips towards Eli, before she sprints at her.  
Eli looks even more willow-y than usual wrapped up in Christina. Christina’s thin, but Eli is skinny, and much taller. I think she must have six inches on her. They embrace for a long moment, then let each other go.  
"Why didn't you tell me your Eli was Eli James?" Christina points an accusatory finger at Corbyn.  
I watch as something dawns on him. “You could have mentioned you do Fashion Week,” He accuses.  
"You could have mentioned your Christina is my favorite makeup artist." Eli says in the same almost indignant tone.  
Christina pushes at her shoulder. "Shut up!”  
“It’s true!” Both girls start talking, filling each other in on a number of things I don’t understand, and even Corbyn looks lost. I've never seen Eli talk like this, she’s not measured at all with Christina; gushing about her hair, asking about her dorm, and talking about New York with slang. It's fascinating. Corbyn gets bored of it quickly though. He makes a noise and pouts.  
Christina keeps talking, but Eli interrupts her with, “So Corbyn?"  
"Oh my god!" Christina goes back to his side, kissing his check. He wraps an arm around her shoulders like a lifeline.  
"I can't believe you've been working together and no one told me." Christina says. Corbyn shrugs, but Christina continues, “It would have made me feel better to know it was this Eli sleeping on the bus with you.”  
"How was I supposed to know, I didn't background check her!”  
Christina looks confused for a second, then grins almost wickedly at Eli.  
"No." Eli cuts in. "No. No. Nope. Let's go get dinner? You must be hungry." She hooks her elbow through Christina's and effectively pulls her and Corbyn out of the store. The rest of us follow behind them, Daniel complaining, "But we just got here!”

We crowd a table that is way too small for a group as big as ours in an Italian restaurant. After everyone gets their drinks, Christina turns back to Eli, “How’s Milo?”  
“He’s perfect.”  
“Who’s Milo?” Jack leans his elbows on the table, “Is that the ex?”  
He looks too excited about having someone whose brain we can pick for dirt on Eli.  
Christina looks back and forth between them, “You told them about Colt?”  
“Not entirely voluntarily.” Eli squeezes too many lemons into her water. She does that everywhere, turns her water into lemon juice, “Milo is my best friend. Colton was my boyfriend.” She directs at Jack.  
“Colton?” Zach asks from the other side of the table, “That’s so southern.”  
“I was raised in Florida. His brother’s name is Alden.”  
“You’re kidding. That’s, like, terrible. What's his sister's name, Scarlett? Do they live in the club?” Zach says 'club' with an emphasis I don’t completely understand.  
“Of course they do,” Eli lifts a shoulder, smiling, “That's a good Gone with the Wind reference, but his sister's name is Harper, and I actually like Alden.”  
“What, is Jack too plain for you?” Jack tosses his straw wrapper in her direction, but hits August instead. August squints at him, and Eli holds out a hand out in front of him.  
“We’re in public.” She reminds him, but she looks like she’s trying not to laugh.  
“Wait,” Daniel swirls his straw around his glass, “Your best friend is a guy?”  
Christina puts her glass down, “They’re like, pretty much, the same person. It’s actually freaking me out, him not being here. I keep expecting him to show up,” Eli shakes her head at this, “No seriously,” Christina says, “Milo’s the boy Eli. They even look the same, except, he’s, like, Latino.”  
Eli crinkles her noise, “We don’t look that much alike.”  
Christina stares her down, “You really, really do.”  
Eli shrugs, and the waitress comes back. We order way too much food, but Eli doesn’t stop us, and the table breaks into smaller conversations.  
Christina turns towards Eli, “They really haven’t?”  
“No, not that they’ve said.”  
Christina finds this hilarious, “I can’t believe none of them thought to…”  
“You aren’t going to tell them. It’s not hiding, it’s…” Eli trails off.  
Christina grabs her hand. “No, of course I’m not going to. I understand. Except, maybe Corbyn…”  
“I’m okay with that, I know it won’t last forever.”  
“No, no one is that dense.” Corbyn is listening too, but he looks as confused as I am.

Our food come out and the chaos escalates. All of us out together always becomes a bit of a disaster and we haven’t had Italian in weeks. It’s not even close to on the approved list from our diet plan. Zach tries to make Jack do the Lady and the Tramp pasta scene with him, because they’re both idiots and this band has no sense of propriety. Eli laughs at them and August threatens to film it. We eat off each other’s plates and talk way too loud by the time we get back to the bus my face hurts from smiling.

 

Christina stays for the show the next night, and dances with Eli at the front of the crowd. Eli has stayed backstage at every show thus far, and I trip over myself watching her.  
Corbyn notices, because of course, he’s looking that direction too. He corners me after the show, “Eli, huh?” He doesn’t say it judgmentally, or even conspiratorially. He doesn’t need to, he’s seen enough.  
“I think I’m over my head with her.” It spills out. I know he’s only asking because he isn’t sure what’s going on, but I’m not sure either.  
"Like how?" He asks,"You're the best with girls."  
"It's not like that." I tuck my hands in my pockets, "It’s like... She’s not my type, not usually. And she’s got this whole life, and I know don’t know… She’s different.”  
"So?" He says, “Different is good. And isn’t that the point of dating? Find out about their life, see if it’ll work or whatever?”  
I blow out a breath, “Yeah, but it’s complicated. I think she technically works for us? And she’s got a lot going on otherwise too…”  
“Like the ex-boyfriend?" He guesses the other, probably more concerning problem, and smacks my chest, "So she intimidates you and has a past. You do too. She’s, like, crazy cool." He looks me straight in the eye, "You shouldn't toss that out cause it won’t be easy."  
I know he's speaking from experience. I’ve seen how hard he works at his relationship, how much effort he and Christina both put in and how good it is for them, but I don't know how to do this.  
"I've never been with a girl that has her life more together than I do." That competence and mystery is attractive, but he was right when he said it was intimidating.  
"Dude." He says, "That's what you want isn't it?" He gestures with his hands in front of him, “You like order.”  
And that’s true. I might be messy, but I want my life to make sense. Her life seems to make sense. I’m just not sure if I could make sense in it.  
   
We clear out the venue and load into the bus, leaving Corbyn outside to say his private goodbye to Christina. We have three days off before our next show, but we’re starting that direction tonight. Christina couldn’t come, even though Corbyn begged her. Eli gave Christina a long hug and whispered something to her, before she left them.  
When Corbyn joins us, his eyes are a little red, and we all pretend not to notice. Eli sits next to him on the sofa, letting him lay his head on her shoulder when the bus takes off. I avert my eyes. Maybe I should be jealous, but I’m glad she can give him comfort when the rest of us haven’t figured out how.  
 

 

 

 

 


	3. Be Careful

The next night Eli, the boys, and I are directed off the tour bus and into an sprinter van, leaving the rest of the crew behind.  
Dave gets behind the wheel, “We’ve got a night off, so Eli’s family has been kind enough to offer us a place to stay.”  
I turn around to look at her where she’s tucked into the last row of the van.  
“We’re going to your house?” Zach turns toward her too, excitement bubbling in his voice.  
“We’re going to my Dad’s ranch.” She corrects. I’m not sure what the difference is, but there clearly is one.  
“How far away are we?” Corbyn asks, looking around. It seems like we’re already in the middle of nowhere.  
“About forty-five minutes, right?” Dave looks in the rearview mirror back at her.  
“Probably?” She doesn’t sound sure, “I usually come in from the South.”  
“A ranch…” Jack gets on his knees and lays his elbows over the seat-back, “What’s that mean?”  
“You’ll have to wait and see. I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.” She smiles, but Jack starts to pout before Dave yells at him to sit back down before he goes through the windshield.  
I watch out the window as the road gets quieter and quieter. There’s fences on either side of the highway now and a frankly ridiculous number of cows. Eventually, Dave turns us into a gravel drive, passing under a open gate with a sign reading ‘Kelley Farms’ cut out of rusty metal hanging over it. It’s a long driveway, with a barn and more pastures on either side, before we reach a big white farmhouse. It looks old and slightly rundown, but pretty all the same.  
A guy walks out on the porch as we climb out of the van, calling back to the house, “Mom, why’s there a busload of boys here?”  
Eli hops down, calling, “Hey Pennsylvania.”  
The guy on the porch looks completely surprised, “You.” He jumps the railing to land on the lawn. Eli takes off jogging in his direction and they meet each other laughing. Another boy comes out of the house while they’re hugging, He’s younger, still baby-faced, but tall and muscular. He takes one look at the scene before him zeroing in on Eli and jumps the porch too. Eli releases the guy she’d been hugging in time for the new boy to crash into her. He leaps and she swings him around. It’s hilarious looking. She’s hardly taller than he is, and he’s got to be fifty pounds heavier than she is.  
I worry before she sets him down that she’ll snap in half.  
“Let go of my girl, you hooligans.” A red-headed woman says, coming out of the house, taking the stairs to hug Eli close.  
Eli sort of melts into her, “Hey Cheryl.”  
The woman, Cheryl, pulls back keeping a hold of Eli’s forearms to look her over, “Hi Baby. I’m making dumplings for dinner.”  
Eli huffs, but Cheryl ignores her, walking towards Dave and hugging him. They exchange pleasantries and Cheryl asks about his family with familiarity.  
The older guy pulls Eli in a headlock, causing her to punch at him. The younger one talks animatedly like what’s happening in front of us is completely normal.  
An older man comes around from the back of the house, “You are supposed to be adults.” He says, pointedly and they stop play fighting.  
Eli looks up, “Hey Dad.”  
“Hi Baby.” He says, fondly exasperated.  
Eli kisses his check.  
“Your Dad is Abraham Kelley?” Zach asks, loudly. Everyone in the yard turns to us. I recognize the name, but can’t place it in my mind, before Eli starts introducing us.  
“Dad, Cheryl,” She nods towards her parents, “Zach, Jonah, Daniel, Jack, Corbyn.” She points to each of us. “Guys, my dad Abe, step-mom Cheryl, and these dummies are my brothers.” She grabs each of them by an ear and they swat at her. It reminds me so much of my sisters I feel homesick. We shake hands with her parents, and Zach stutters through being introduced to Eli’s dad.  
Cheryl leads us up the stairs, offering Dave coffee, before telling her kids to show us the spare rooms.  
We follow them to the second floor and Corbyn asks, “So… I didn’t catch your names?”  
The older one laughs. He looks nothing like Eli. The younger one doesn’t look much like her either. “I’m Penn,” He points to his younger brother, “That’s Merritt.”  
“Cool.” Jack says. “How old are you guys?”  
Eli wraps an arm around Merritt, “Fifteen and twenty, which makes me old.”  
Both of them roll their eyes at her.  
“Okay.” Penn pushes open a door, “There’s three guest rooms. You’ll have to share, and divide them up, but this one has bunkbeds.”  
The rest of the tour includes bathrooms, the linen closet, and their bedrooms. Penn’s room has a trundle bed Eli tugs out from under his mattress to drop her bag on.  
“Did we take your room?” Jack asks her, looking around at Penn’s stuff. There’s a bunch of signed records on the wall, and two guitars propped in the corner.  
“No.” Eli opens the window.  
Penn glances at her before offering, “She's never lived here.”  
No one can question that before Cheryl calls us down for dinner.

 

After dinner the guys cram into what Merritt calls the bonus room. It’s a another living room upstairs, with video games set up on an older television. Penn tells us that the room is soundproof, since there’s a recording studio below it; because Eli’s dad is a country music legend. Which explains why I knew his name, and why Zach’s starstruck by the man, he grew up in Texas.  
Eli calls for Penn from the hallway as he and Corbyn are about to start another round of Mortal Kombat. She had disappeared to take a bath when we came upstairs, warning her brothers not to embarrass her.  
“In here!” Penn answers, and she appears in the doorway. Her hair is wet, she’s got a comb in one hand, and her shorts expose a lot of her legs. It takes real effort to force my eyes back up.  
“I didn’t know you were playing, I can…” She turns to leave.  
Penn pauses the game, “Just come here,” He spreads his knees apart, “You’ll have to keep me in the game.”  
Eli crosses the room to sit down on the floor between his knees, trading him her comb for his controller. She restarts the game without another word. I’m suddenly very glad it’s not my turn. I would have died by now. She’s good at this game, which is surprising, but it’s Penn I can’t quit watching. He pulls up sections of her hair to brush slowly. He’s careful, and when the round is over Eli’s won the match. The guys explode, laughing at Corbyn for losing. Merritt’s laughs too, “She would have taken you out sooner if her head wasn’t stuck.”  
Eli sticks her tongue out at him, “I did my best.”  
“Yeah, right.” Merritt says, inspiring Corbyn to immediately call for a rematch.  
She’s even better this time, taking him out faster, and he’s shocked.  
Penn looks him over, “Man, we played the original for hours.”  
Eli hands her controller to Daniel where he’s sitting on the sofa closest to them.  
“You want me to fishtail or french this?” Penn tugs on her hair.  
“You pick.” She tilts her head down causing a few pieces of hair swing in front of her face.  
Jack whistles, “Woah, your hair is so long.”  
Penn leans down to look at Eli, and she looks up him, “I’ve been doing it in the shower.”  
“You should see it dry. It’s curly.” Penn spins a piece around his finger. Eli taps his leg.  
“Sorry, sorry.” He goes back to combing and braiding, but the band is still watching them. They both look up, “What?”  
“I’ve never seen anyone do their sister’s hair.” Jack explains. “Actually, my sister tried to get me to help her once. I’m pretty sure I burned her, like, with the curling iron? She says there’s a scar and everything.”  
Eli laughs, while Penn finishes the braid, “I’ve been doing Eli’s since we were kids.”  
Eli runs her hand over the plait, “Dad’s awful at it, and Cheryl didn’t have girls.”  
“I was pretty terrible at it in the beginning.”  
“Now you’re better than I am.” She assures Penn.  
He jokingly shoves her head away, “That’s a lie.”  
They laugh while Merritt calls our attention back to the game. We go round after round until Eli sends us to bed.  
 

We're stumbling down stairs in the morning, laughing at Corbyn after Jack had woken us up when Daniel suddenly stops in his place at the front. The rest of us have to grab each other and the railing to keep from falling over.  
I understand immediately why he froze.  
From the staircase you can see downstairs. Mr. Kelley is strumming a guitar, sitting at the kitchen table with Dave. Penn is playing one as well, walking around the kitchen.  
Eli’s stood at the counter with her back to us, singing.  
Her voice is incredible. It’s high and clear and so, so sweet.  
Nobody moves until Merritt comes down the hall. He looks where we’re frozen, as Penn and Mr. Kelley start another song. Then he pushes past us, moving into the kitchen, “They’re not going to stop if you join them.” He kicks at his brother when he walks by, then takes his shirt off to drop over Eli's head; she hadn’t been wearing one, only a sports bra. She holds her hands up, covered in flour. Merritt laughs while he helps her get his shirt on. Penn starts singing then. He’s pretty good too.  
Abe notices us on the stairs during the chorus and interrupts the song to yell, “Good morning, boys!"  
It makes Penn jump, but Eli isn’t surprised.  
"Hope you like pecan rolls." Penn says still messing with his guitar, when we reach the table.  
"What?" Daniel rubs the sleep from his eyes, looking at Eli like he’s never seen her before.  
She puts on potholders to take a pan out of the oven. It smells like brown sugar.  
Zach answers Daniel, "Cinnamon buns, but like, with caramel and nuts." His eyes are huge, "Are we really going to get pecan rolls?"  
Merritt smirks, "Oh man, you're gonna die."  
"You've been torturing these kids and haven't made them The Rolls?" Penn pulls Eli’s braid. I can tell that there is capitalization implied.  
She shakes her head, losing his hand, "They're on a diet." She wags a finger at us, "Everyone gets one.” Staring her dad down she repeats, "One."  
He looks put out, but salutes her, "Yes, ma'am."  
Eli carefully places rolls into the pan, while Cheryl comes in the back door. She’s insisted we call her by her first name, unlike her husband. Her jeans are dirty and she's wearing a cowboy hat. She smiles wide when she sees us, then kisses Penn and Eli’s cheeks, the top of Merritt's head, and Mr. Kelley on the mouth.  
"Have you been out to see Jesse, Baby?" Cheryl asks Eli, sitting down.  
“Not yet. After breakfast." Eli puts her pan back in the oven.  
"Don't wait too long."  
I’m about to ask who Jesse is when Merritt speaks up, “He's an even bigger asshole when you aren't around." Mr. Kelley reaches across the table to tap the side of his son’s head, an imitation of a smack. "Sorry, I meant jerk." Merritt cuts us a side eye.  
"Don't talk about him like that." Eli says mildly, taking real bacon out of the fridge. This is enough to distract the rest of the guys.  
"Is that?"  
"It can't be!"  
"But is it?"  
"Oh, sister of mine. You're pure evil.” Penn picks out a new song on his guitar, Mr. Kelley following his lead.  
Eli ignores us and moves around Penn, retrieving a massive frying pan.  
While she cooks bacon, Penn and Mr. Kelley play together, and it feels easy.  
After the rolls come out of the oven, the kitchen smells like a bakery.  
Merritt jumps up to grab a stack of plates, Eli serves bacon and a roll on each one then hands them to Penn to set around the table. It seems like a well choreographed routine.  
The other guys start eating like they've never seen food before. I consider telling them to slow down, until I take a bite, and actually moan aloud.  
I catch Eli with her fork in her mouth, smirking around it, watching me.

 

After breakfast had been demolished and the dishes stacked in the sink, Eli kisses her dad's cheek, tipping her head towards the back door, “I'll be back.”  
"Don't let him throw you." Mr. Kelley looks her over, "Penn?"  
At the sink Merritt perks up, "I got it!”, trying to get out of dish-duty.  
Eli's halfway out the door, "I don't need supervision, Dad!"  
"Sure, sure." He says, but nods to Merritt. He takes off after her. I don’t understand what's happening, but when Penn leaves after them, the guys and I end up following too.

Eli's a hundred yards ahead of us. As we get closer, she swings herself up to sit on the fence and whistles once, sharp and loud. Penn holds up a hand, halting our procession before we can get closer.  
In the distance a horse runs directly for the fence. I tense, fighting the urge to lunge forward and grab Eli down from her perch.  
Before it can crash into her, the horse slows to place it’s head against her. She strokes it, sweet talking, "Hey Handsome, Hey Jesse. Hi Buddy. I've missed you!"  
Merritt moves and the horse stomps, whipping his head away from Eli to snort at him. "Hey! I feed you!" Merritt complains, “Seriously. You’re the worst. The worst.”  
Eli looks over the rest of us, “This is Jesse." She pats him, and he turns for her.  
“Yup. Figured that one out.” Jack tells her.  
Eli smiles standing up on fence, and Penn crosses his arms, muttering about foolish and stubborn. I can't decide if he's talking about the girl or the horse or potentially both. Eli ignores him, and in one smooth move, throws a leg over to straddle the horse, tangling her hands in his mane.  
This is the tallest horse I’ve ever seen and this crazy girl is sitting on him without equipment. "We're going to the lake." She directs to Merritt, “Bring them out on the gators.” Her horse gets impatient while she talks, walking in circles and whining. "Alright, alright. You big baby." As Eli digs her heels in and the horse takes off, she calls over her shoulder, “Be careful with them!”  
Her brothers and Zach are unfazed. "You're going to catch flies." He gestures towards my open mouth, jaw hanging open from watching her do that.  
"So, anyone feel like a trip to the lake?" Penn grins.  
The lake is at the edge of their property, Merritt explains. There’s a dock, and it’s deep enough to swim. It’s shaded, but this time of year it’s warm enough to get in. We end up passing the morning swimming in our boxers, Eli in all her clothes, taking turns jumping off a rope swing and roughhousing. Eli and her brothers get in on it. It’s strange watching her with them. They’re so physically, no qualms at all about tackling each other. While the band is touchy, always hanging off each other, none of us usually initiate contact with Eli. She’s much more open with her brothers.

Eli talks me into petting her horse as we’re drying off, and afterwards Penn and Merritt look at me with something I can’t discern in their eyes. When she takes off on Jesse, Merritt and Penn chauffeur us back to the house on the farm-capable golf carts they brought us out on.  
I’m following the guys inside when Mr. Kelley stops me from his place on the porch.  
"Sir?" I pause in the doorway. Daniel looks back at me, makes a ‘sucks to be you’ face, then pushes the rest of the band further into the house.  
I start thinking of the ways I can make them pay for this abandonment later to stop myself from panicking.  
Mr. Kelley gestures towards a chair next to him, "Have a seat."  
"Sure." I sit down.  
We're both quiet for a minute. I try to think of why he’d want me alone. In the distance, I can see Eli brushing out her horse, Merritt standing a safe distance away talking at her, and Penn pulling the gators back into the barn.  
"I love my daughter, Jonah." He starts and I'm suddenly very sure I'm about to get the boyfriend talk. From a man whose daughter I'm not sure likes me that way. Apparently my infatuation with her is unsubtle enough to get his attention though.  
"I can see that, Sir." I tell him when he doesn’t follow that with anything.  
"And I'm real proud of her." I nod. He’s got a lot to be proud of.  
"I've never met anyone like her.” I tell him, and I guess my awe of her is palpable here too, because he chuckles.  
"Yeah." He looks me in the eyes, "Be careful, son."  
I really can't tell how he's warning me; if he thinks she'll hurt me or I'll hurt her. Before I can ask he's stands up, "I better go give Cheryl a hand. I've got a way with the chickens."  
I make a noise in the affirmative and he pats my shoulder hard, walking off whistling.

I wouldn't have guessed Eli’s father to be a semi-famous, mostly retired, musician on ranch, but witnessing it here, it makes sense in a way nothing else could.  
I look back at her and Merritt in time to catch her chucking the brush at him, then chasing him in circles, their laugher ringing over the property.  
Penn comes out of the barn and yells towards them, “Go on Mer! You can take her!”, which causes them both to tear up the yard. They’re shouting at each other, red faced by the time they reach the porch, smiling with identical dimples. Neither of them slow their momentum, Eli vaulting herself over the railing while Merritt army rolls under it. They collapse flat on the porch, while Penn walks up declaring, “Merritt won.”  
Eli jerks up to sitting, “Absolutely not. Jonah?” She looks to me.  
“It seemed pretty even, actually.” I tell her honestly, and she lays back down.  
“Banana bread.” Merritt says, no context.  
Eli groans, “We don’t even have bananas.”  
“So.” Merritt stands up, offering her his hand. She takes it letting him yank her up to standing. “I won.”  
She pushes at him, “Fine, but I’m showering first.”  
The screen door slams shut behind her, and Penn turns on Merritt, “Really, Merritt? Banana bread?”  
“What? I like banana bread.”  
“We could have had Tomato Pie.” Penn says, disappointed.  
Merritt’s face falls, “I didn’t even think about that!”  
Penn shakes his head sadly, “So much faith in you, little brother, and you pick banana bread.”

 

I leave them to their weird brotherly rambling and find an open bathroom. I’m just finished getting dressed after showering, when Eli knocks on the half-open door. She’s got her wet hair twisted in a bun and fresh clothes on, “How would you feel about driving me to the store?”  
“Pretty good.”  
She smiles. “Let’s go.”

Eli snags a set keys from a row of hooks by the door and leads me around to the garage. Inside she directs me to a vintage red truck in great shape, tossing me the keys.  
When I go to crank it, she stops me with a hand on mine, “You can drive stick, right?”  
“Yes, and I’ll be careful.” At my promise, she removes her hand. I place one of mine on her headrest while I back out. The truck runs smooth for it’s age. I don’t take my hand down when I take it out of reverse. I drive slowly one handed down the driveway, taking in the ranch and Eli’s profile as she messes with the radio.  
She looks up at me, “You don’t have to be this careful. Technically, it’s mine.”  
“The truck?”  
“Everything my grandfather had… Dad’s Dad. He left everything to me. So… yes, the truck is mine.”  
“It’s really cool.” I tell her sincerely. She reaches over and pulls down the visor when I stop at the end of the driveway. I look up to see a picture of Eli stuck in the mirror. She can’t be more than four, sitting on the tailgate of this truck wearing boots, underwear, and nothing else. Her hair is in little braids and she’s grinning so hard her eyes are closed. It's possibly the most adorable thing I've ever seen.  
I look at her next to me, and I have to tease, “You could still pull that off.”  
She smirks at me, "In your dreams.” That sounds about right.

Eli directs me to the store, and inside I follow her around pushing the cart. She picks out a handful of things, then directs me to a produce stand.  
When we arrive a white-haired man sitting in a lawn chair calls out, “Baby Kelley. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” She hugs him and he kisses her check. “New beau?” He lets her go, holding out a hand out to me.  
I shake it while she bites her lip, “Jonah, Granny, Granny, Jonah. He’s a friend.”  
He gives her a look I can’t decipher, “Good to meet you, son, but you ought to know she don’t like anyone to drive that truck.”  
I try not to let it get to my head, but I can’t help my smile.  
“I need a lot of tomatoes, Granny.” Eli says, and he smiles.  
“You know it’s that season.” She nods and they talk about the weather, the horses, Merritt’s football career and Penn’s singing gig at some restaurant downtown. I learn about as much about her family during this conversation as I have staying in their house.

When we leave Eli has a box filled with funky looking tomatoes, all different colors, and Granny won’t accept a dime. I catch her sliding a twenty into his pocket as she hugs him goodbye anyway, and she promises to have Penn bring him a pie.  
“Why do you call him Granny?”  
“He went to high school with my dad, and started going gray even then. It stuck. The whole town calls him that.”  
“That’s funny.”  
“It’s common around here. Half the town goes by something other than their legal names.” She shrugs.  
“Like you, Baby?” I have to ask. No one in her family has called her by her real name since we got here. She buries her face in her hands, groaning.  
“It’s pretty cute.” I confess. She peaks at me before dropping her hands, and I think she’s smiling.  
“What are the tomatoes for?”  
“Tomato pie.”  
“I don’t know what that is.” She laughs at me, but in a nice way.  
“You’ll like it.” I believe her. I’d still like an explanation, but she turns up the radio, puts her feet on the dashboard, and I’d rather listen to her sing along than anything else.

Penn’s on the porch playing guitar and the rest of the guys are nowhere to be seen when we carry the groceries into the house. Penn raises an eyebrow at Eli, “Grandpa’s Ford?” She doesn’t answer before he catches sight of the box in her arms. “Tomatoes?”  
She kicks the screen door open, nodding.  
“You do like me!” He calls as we walk inside.  
“Only a little!” She yells back. “You can set those anywhere.”  
I place the bags on the counter, then stand around uselessly watching her unpack.  
She notices I’m still here when she’s done, and considers me. “I don’t trust anyone with pie, but I’ll teach you how to make banana bread?”  
I agree and we set to work mushing and mixing and chopping. Cooking is messy and I’ve never been great at it, but I get to make Eli laugh with my nonexistent skills and terrible jokes. It’s way more fun than any memory I have of being in a kitchen. By the time I’ve mixed up banana bread under her direction, she’s made four pie crusts and washed the weird tomatoes.  
Penn wanders in then, going for a tomato on the cutting board next to Eli. She spins around and waves her knife at him, “I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don’t trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen, Pennsylvania.”  
He holds up his hands placating like she’s wielding a gun, backing off laughing. She goes back to slicing tomatoes and directs me to the sink to wash up.  
“Your brother’s name isn’t really Pennsylvania, is it?” I ask as he heads upstairs to find the boys.  
Eli giggles, “No, I just thought Penn was a funny name at six. He’d probably kill anyone else for trying it, but he’s never asked me to stop.” She finishes slicing and expertly rolls the crust into pans, then layers tomatoes with cheeses, herbs, and mayonnaise into them. I must make a face watching this because she tells me, “I promise, you’ll like it.”  
The way her brothers spoke about this made it sound amazing, and her breakfast was great. I think I’ll try anything she offers me at this point. Weird southern foods, dance tips, fashion advice? All fair game.

After she crowds the pies in the oven, I help her clean up in comfortable silence. By the time she carefully swats me away from oven to pull out her pies, everyone on the ranch has gathered in the kitchen.  
I hands her plates while she slices, her dad stealing the first one with a kiss to her forehead, “You are my favorite daughter.” He tells her sincerely.  
“I’m your only daughter.”  
“Doesn’t make it less true.” He counters.

Penn was not exaggerating. Tomato pie is pizza and pie’s love child, and it’s awesome.  
Corbyn groans out loud, “Oh my god.”  
Jack and Daniel agree, making sounds of pleasure. Zach looks down the table at Eli to ask, “Marry me?” Making everyone laugh.  
Mr. Kelley pats his back consolingly, “You aren’t the first to ask, kid.”  
Eli blushes, “Don’t get used to it.” She waves her fork around, thankfully ignoring Zach’s question. I want to ask about her dad’s response, even though I’m sure it was a joke. We aren’t anything. I don’t have the right anyway.  
Eli looks around the table, “This is vacation food, and we aren’t on vacation tomorrow.”  
“Fun sucker.” Merritt teases.  
She flicks his ear, “Careful, or I’ll let Jonah keep your banana bread.”

I smile at her, and she hooks her ankle around mine. She’s across the table from me, sitting between her brothers, and I know no one can see this, but I feel it. Everyone talks and eats around us, but she’s what I focus on.  
We’re not anything. That’s true, but the weight of her foot pressed against mine, coupled with that tiny grin she gives me, feels like maybe. Maybe we could be.


	4. Never, Ever

We’re free, for a whole six hours in the next city we’re playing. Miraculously, we don’t have any planned promo. No radio stations, no interviews, nowhere we have to be until the show.  
August decides this means we need to go exploring. He packs up cameras and we spend most of the day walking around, letting him direct shots whenever the lighting or scenery is interesting enough. It’s hot, but not unbearable.  
When we finally make it back to the bus, my feet hurt from walking. We’re hardly in the door when Jack announces he’s found a thrift store, and manages to convince everyone except Corbyn, August, and I to go back out with him.  
I’m reading when August interrupts, kind of anguished and with absolutely no pretense, “Your babies will have the greenest eyes.”  
“My eyes aren’t really green?” It’s a half question followed by, a louder, “Also haven’t knocked anyone up.” Just in case anyone is within hearing distance.  
“They’re at dinner.” Corbyn calls from his bunk. He was calling Christina, but apparently they’ve hung up. I relax a bit knowing management couldn’t have heard that. The last thing I want is another horrible responsibility lecture.  
August spins his laptop towards my side of the table. He’s working his magic on one of the photos he took today. I had been leaning against a building watching the guys when Eli had joined me, copying my pose. One leg bent, foot flat against the brick, shoulders against the wall.  
She’s in the foreground of the picture, the angle making the cut of her skinny frame stand out, her mile long legs and her arms crossed in front of her chest. I look stronger and taller beside her. I’ve got my bottom lip pinched in my hand, my other hand tucked into a pocket. Between my shadow eyes and her half-bitten smirk, we look like we’re keeping secrets.  
It’s a great picture. Framed next to Eli’s, my eyes do look green. Hers positively glow.  
Corbyn jumps down from his bunk with all the agility of a young elephant.  
“That’s crazy. Would you send it to me?” I ask August. Corbyn comes up behind me, crushing me into the table, to get a closer look. We’ve, as a collective band, long given up on personal space.  
“Whoa.” Corbyn pulls back, letting me breathe, “That is so sick, bro.”  
August smiles, pulling his laptop back, “Wish she’d model for me.”  
“Did you ask?”  
“The first day I met her, she shot me down.” He winces, “Hard, like.” He can’t seem to find the right combination of words. “Don’t think I’m the first to ask.”  
Corbyn hums, and I nod. Eli’s nearly my height, super skinny, and gorgeous.  
“Makes sense.” Corbyn settles on.  
My phone buzzes receiving the photo, and I consider posting it online. I decide against that immediately. It would be a firestorm, and not only from the fans.  
I set it as my home-screen instead, then forget about it.

At least, until Zach snatches my phone at dinner. He’s got a habit of misplacing his.  
“Uh, Jonah?” He asks, his voice gone high.  
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see his smirk, “Yes, Zach?”  
“I like your home-screen.” He’s really smiling now, and I know I’m in trouble. My mouth goes dry, as I fight to choke down a bite of my sandwich. I’m so grateful Eli stayed back with the rest of the team.  
This is still a problem, but not yet a disaster.  
Why did I think it was a good idea to teach Zach my passcode?

Realization dawns on Corbyn fast. He elbows at my side, tilting his head with an expression of fake innocence,“You made the baby picture your home screen, didn’t you?”  
I palm my face. Out of everything he could have named it, he had to go with that.  
“The what?” Daniel sputters, actual concern in his voice.  
“Don’t worry, D.” Zach messes with my phone, trying to zoom in, “There’s no babies in this picture. Unless…”  
“No!” I shout jerking my head up, “I haven’t even kissed her.”  
It comes out too loud, and a couple women at the next table try to laugh discretely. They don’t do a great job.  
Jack grabs for my phone before I can stop him. Zach hands it over.  
Jack smiles at the picture, holding it out for the other guys to see.  
“August thinks their babies will have the best eyes,” Corbyn fills them in.  
Around a bite of his sandwich, August agrees. He’s completely unbothered by this reveal.  
“Bro.” Eben whistles.  
I groan. I know. I know, this is spectacularly stupid, and possibly pointless.  
Corbyn pats at my shoulder a couple times, “You’ve got it bad, bro.”  
“It’s…”  
“You don’t gotta explain.” Jack speaks up.  
“Please be careful.” Daniel finishes for him.  
“Yeah.” Zach takes my phone back to do whatever it was that started this conversation in the first place, “I like Eli.”  
“She’s not the one I’m worried about.” Daniel frowns, but everyone resumes eating and for the moment my potential insanity is forgotten, or maybe just forgiven.  
 

I stumble into the kitchenette in the morning in search of coffee to find Eli lacing up sneakers. She’s wearing workout clothes with her headphones on. She doesn’t see me at first. I admire her for a moment, then I cough to get her attention.  
She sits up.  
“Going somewhere?” I point at her shoes.  
“Do you have running shoes?” She looks me over.  
I consider briefly saying no, but I end up nodding.  
“Okay then.” She stands up. “Go get them, I’ll get your coffee.”  
By the time we’re two miles in, I know she’s holding back.  
“I didn’t realize you were a runner.” I tell her, half-commendation, half-compliant. I’m panting, and she isn’t even breathing hard.  
“Every morning I can. I like…” She look to me, “I like to accomplish things. If I get something done when I wake up, I feel like I can manage everything else.”  
That makes sense, “But running?”  
She laughs, “Marathons seemed cool.”  
“Seriously?”  
“Seriously. Run with me for the rest of the tour, you’ll see.”  
I’m not exactly sure I’ll make it through this run, much less a dozen or more before the end of tour, but somehow that doesn’t stop me from agreeing.  
We’re quiet for a minute, and I focus on synchronizing my breath to hers.  
We turn a corner, and start down a hill, “Is it a control thing?”  
She tilts her head, “Why I like accomplishment?”  
“Yeah.”  
She thinks about it, “Maybe. I haven’t thought about it like that before. My grandparents raised me. I didn’t have a lot of influence over anything when I was a kid. Running was a thing I got to pick.”  
I hum an acknowledgment of this new puzzle piece of hers.  
She picks up the pace, and I can’t get enough air to ask her any more questions.  
I'm pretty sure she does it on purpose.

When we get back to the bus, the rest of the band is waking up.  
“Good run?” Eben asks, as I collapse on the bench next to him.  
I groan, and Eli grins.  
 

 

“You should stop calling them pretty.”  
Eli’s standing by the door of the green room we’ve been hustled into after yet another radio interview. The rest of us have collapsed around the room, into chairs, onto couches, and in Jack’s case, directly on the the floor.  
We’d been given water-bottles and had started chugging them, when she made this proclamation.

Daniel swallows hard, “What?”  
Eli bites her lip, and turns towards our manager. He nods, like permission.  
“The girls, the ones that wait outside, you should stop calling them cute.”  
Corbyn and Zach start to protest, but Jack cuts in, “Wait, why?”  
“Cute says you should be most proud of the thing you’re born with,” Eli gestures towards the window, “Those girls down there, they’re creative, and funny, and intelligent. They deserve praise for that.”  
We look at her for a minute, like we’re prone to do when she gets smart on us.  
She rocks on her heels, “It’s not that they aren’t pretty. They are pretty, they’re just more than that.”  
There’s no time for that to sink in, we’re herded out the door and into the van.  
This is grueling, one state to the next. These radio interviews range from overly nice to shockingly rude, and I’m not even sure where we’re going now.

Zach turns in his seat next to me in the van, and pokes Corbyn, “Get Eli.”  
Corbyn makes a face, but does his bidding, tapping her knee, “Zach wants you.”  
She pulls her headphones down onto her neck and looks to Zach.  
“That thing you said, about the girls,” He starts.  
Eli nods, “What about it?”  
Zach blushes, then blurts out, “Does it work?”  
The rest of the guys are paying attention now.  
Eli give him a sweet smile, “Yes, Zach, it does. Tell a girl something about her you find special, instead how attractive she is, and you’ll get positive response.”  
He makes a face, and she laughs, “Not that being told you’re cute isn’t nice, but it doesn’t feel the same.”  
He still looks skeptical.  
Eli considers him, then turns, “Hey Jack?”  
She’s grinning, and he can’t help but grin back. “Yes, Eli?”  
“I love how you love your sisters. You’re a fantastic brother, and I think that’s awesome.”  
Jack’s grin turns into a genuine smile. “Ah, Thanks, E.”  
“Your hair is cool.” Her grin gets a little wicked, and Corbyn snorts. Daniel actually laughs. Jack rolls his eyes.  
“Which one made you feel better?” Eli asks, even though it’s obvious, “Which one feels like I’m paying attention?”  
“Clearly, the brother thing,” Zach says, “But like, how do you do that?”  
“You have to care enough to notice. Daniel?” Eli turns her attention. I’m not sure where this is going. Out of all of us, Eli’s spent the least amount of time with Daniel.  
“You’re so brave with your faith, to keep it strong, even as you get more famous. It’s inspiring.” She waits a beat, “Your eyes are pretty.”  
Daniel ducks his head, but I catch his smile.  
“Me next!” Corbyn calls, jumping in his seat, making us crack up.  
“Really?”  
“Yes.” He pleads, with his most winning (stupid) smile.  
I want to record this, send to Christina, and watch Corbyn grovel after.  
Eli gives in, “You’re fun, but I admire how smart you are. I’ve see what you can do in League, and it’s impressive.” Corbyn’s eyes go wide. “You’ve got great hands.”  
“Hold up,” Corbyn stops her. “You play?”  
“I wouldn’t…” Eli starts, but Zach interrupts, “Hey! No, it’s my turn.”  
Eli looks at him, resigned to finishing this, “Zach?”  
“Eli.”  
“You make me want to be more reckless. You’re fearless, and I think you’ll be the same even when you’re sixty, not sixteen.” He beams, “Your blush begs to be kissed.” He blinks for a second. Jack and Corbyn snicker, but it’s a cute thing to say about him.  
“Okay, okay. Now do Jonah.” Zach recovers.  
I start to shake my head no. I don’t really want to hear it. Then her smile softens as she meets my eyes, I can read her well enough to know she isn’t going to make a joke. She looks serious, and I hold my breath.  
“Jonah,” I nod without commanding my body to do that. “You’re the most genuine and empathic person. You can be quiet sometimes, but you are such a carer. You always find a way to protect the people and things that matter to you. I really respect that.”  
It feels like she sees me. I want her to respect me, more than I want her to think I’m cool, and she knows it.  
I swallow and wait for her throwaway, semi-flirty compliment.  
“Your chest is so broad, someone could tuck in next to your heart.” She doesn’t smirk after she says it, and doesn’t sound like a quip.  
Corbyn breaks the silence of our staring after a moment,“Christina next!” He takes out his phone, “Action!”  
Eli shakes her head, “This for you or from me?”  
“Oh… I was just going to record it, but…”  
“Don’t think so,” She laughs, “You can’t take credit for my effort.”  
“Hi Christina.” Eli says into the camera, “Your work ethic is inspiring. You fight to accomplish your goals, and I cannot wait to see what you achieve.” She winks, “Also, you make mom jeans hot.”  
Corbyn flips the camera around, “Uh, ditto. Love you, bye!”  
Exactly how that mess landed a girl like Christina is a mystery to us all. He makes us laugh though.  
 

We're almost finished with our meet and greet, when two guys walk in. They’re older, probably mid-twenties. One is blonde, built like Captain America, the other a slimmer black guy in a leather jacket, in July.  
I elbow Corbyn, “Do they belong to any of us?”  
If one of us invites friends out to a show, we all usually know about it, but maybe I missed something. Corbyn looks towards the door and shrugs, “Don’t think so, ask Daniel?”  
I smile for another picture, and hug the girls as they leave. Daniel hands yet another watermelon off, while Zach holds up a drawing for us to see. Those are my favorite, I don’t know what we’re going to do with them when we get home, but I love that what we do inspires people to make art.  
I tug Daniel’s sleeve, “You know them?”  
He tries to be discreet, looking them over while another fan comes up. He shakes his head once, “Nope”, after the girl is moved along.  
I look to Zach and Jack, trying to figure out if they know those guys, but they’re getting tired. They end up hugging it out during a lot of these things. Neither of them are great at small-talk. The next group in line ‘awe’s loudly over them.  
“You’re adorable!” Daniel coos.  
Jack makes a face, like he’d glare or say something rude if we weren’t surrounded by young fans. He doesn’t let go of Zach though.  
The next group comes through, then we’re free to finish getting ready for the show.  
Eli appears, and Leather Jacket spots her, whistling once. It’s so quiet if I hadn’t been playing attention to them I might not have even heard it.  
Eli hears it though, and moves towards them. Captain America notices her and smiles. She jumps into Leather Jacket’s arms when she gets close. He catches her and when he sets her down, Captain America grabs a wrist to pull her into his arms.  
Jack notices me watching them, “Who are they?”  
“I’ve only been trying to figure that out since they walked in. Eli’s, clearly.”  
We’re forced backstage, and I lose my vantage point to try to figure it out.  
I don’t have to wait long though, before Eli brings them into the green room.  
“Gentleman,” She announces, “my oldest friends in the world, Jayden and Colt.”  
We nod to each other, and Zach, because he can’t stop himself, asks, “How many dudes named Colt do you know?”  
Captain America, Colt, looks confused, “What?”  
Eli pats his arm. “Just the one, Z.”  
“Ballsy to show up to your ex-girlfriend’s gig, man.” Jack looks him over.  
I briefly consider knocking their heads together. Jack and Zach think they're funny, and sometimes that’s true, but not right now.  
Eli makes a noise, and Jayden looks like he’s trying not to laugh.  
“Have you lost your hearing today? I invited them, to any shows they could make, because we’re friends.” Eli stresses.  
Colt wraps an arm around her, “That’s okay, baby. Your little guard dogs are reassuring.”  
She stomps her foot down on his, making him jump. “Ow! What was that for?”  
“Be nice.”  
Small mercies, we’re directed to stage then and don’t have time to chat. I have no interest in talking to Eli’s Captain America look-alike ex, or the guy she can’t quit smiling at.

Unfortunately for me, they stay with Eli during the show, through the after-party, and in the green room while the crew packs up.  
The three of them sit together on a sofa, speaking in a shorthand of inside jokes, about places and people I don’t know. It would be more annoying if I didn’t find it fascinating.  
I liked watching Eli with her family, how silly her brothers made her, but she’s even more comfortable with these guys. She hasn’t stopped smiling since they showed up.

Eben’s messing with the speakers when a song with a latin beat starts playing.  
Jayden stands, offering Eli a hand. She takes it, and he twirls her into the open space on the other side of the room. They dance together, this easy practiced rhythm that shows how many times they’ve done this before.  
They never even stop talking, not that we can hear their conversation.

“That’s how they met.” Colton tips his head their direction. I look back to him. “Jayden was Eli’s first ballroom partner when we were kids. They were like, four.”  
That would explain a lot.  
“Have you known her that long?” Jack asks.  
“We grew up in the same neighborhood. I can’t remember not knowing her.”

Jayden dips Eli, making her giggle loud enough to hear her over the music.  
It makes Colton smile, and me too.

That’s what cracks Daniel, that adoration on Colton’s face,“How do you do it, man?"  
It feels like telepathy, him asking the question I can’t get out of my brain.  
Eli’s opened up about a lot, since we’ve been trapped on the bus, she hasn’t spoken about their relationship again.  
"Do what?” Colton squints at him.  
“Be around her?” Daniel tries.  
“There’s girls I wasn't dating for six months I couldn't see across a parking lot now, without it being weird." Jack elaborates.  
“What’d she tell you? About why we broke up?"  
I expect one of the other guys to answer.  
When they don’t, I tell him slightly bitterly, “You broke your own hearts.”  
Colton shakes his head, "I'm not sure which one of us would be the villain in that story. And there’s got to be one, right?” He huffs, "That woman was my friend for a long time before we started dating. She was sixteen. I asked her to prom and kissed her when she said yes.” He looks at Daniel, “And I knew, even when we were kids, that she was unfairly good looking, but also the smartest, most interesting, and talented person I've ever meet.” He turns to me, “Absolutely none of those things changed when we broke up as adults."  
None of us know what to say to that. Colton rubs at his arm, “It sucked. It really sucked at the beginning. I was an asshole, she got mad. We couldn’t talk for weeks, but she's my best friend." He emphasizes this again, “She's my friend, and if all those things I like about her, if they don't matter any more if we aren't dating, that makes my whole life shallow.” He shakes his head, “I love her as a person, not a body."  
"Dude..." Zach says, shocked.  
I am too. It’s not surprising they still like each other, Eli said as much, but it’s crazy to think about loving someone that way. It’s a whole new level of grownup.

 

When we’re loading up the bus, Eli walks Jayden and Colton to their car, and I try not to watch. She hugs Jayden tight, and when she releases him, he raises a hand to catch the keys Colton tosses to him.  
Colton steps up to Eli, talking quietly. She hugs him, and he pulls back to kiss her cheek.  
It’s quick, and she laughs at him, but it makes something go tight in my chest.  
Jack throws an arm over my shoulder and drags me into the bus. He doesn’t have to say anything else.  
 

 

“Do you think you’ll get back together?”  
We’ve been on the road for maybe an hour. Half the band has already gone to bed, but a few of us are sitting around the lounge. Eli’s tucked into a ball on one end of the sofa, her fingers flying as she texts.  
She looks up at Jack where he’s sprawled on the other end, “Colton?”  
“Yeah.” He tugs at the frayed strings in the knee of his jeans, “He said some things.”  
“Colt’s a talker, but no.”  
“Really?” Zach sits up from his slumped position in the chair opposite me, “Because, the dude talks about you like he’s still in love with you.”  
“You’re childhood sweethearts. That’s, like, soulmates or something.” Jack twists the knife.  
“I don’t believe in soulmates.”  
“What?” Zach questions.  
“When people talk about soulmates, they think about Plato’s myth, right?” She continues without pausing for an answer, “Humans were these eight limbs, two headed, perfect creatures until Zeus cut them apart. Forced to roam forever looking for the other half.” She shrugs, “I think that whole idea is problematic. Bronte might have it more right, ‘whatever souls are made of, his and mine are the same.’ But there’s flaws in that too.”  
After a long moment, Zach asks, “So you don’t love him?”  
“Of course I love him, Zach. That wasn’t why it ended. It was more…” She looks down, “The closest thing I have to a soulmate, like the Bronte kind, is my best friend. I’m never bored with Milo, I talk to him all day, everyday, and still miss him desperately. But he and I couldn’t hold a life together.” She looks back to Zach, “At sixteen, I remember thinking love was this huge feeling. That’s not wrong. But building a life requires a lot more than that. You need commitment and compromise. The feeling, it won’t pay the bills or take your kids to school. I want someone for real life.” Her phone buzzes on her knee, she picks it up and goes back to texting like we aren’t hanging on her every word.  
She looks up after realizing none of us have moved on. She glances at me, then pokes Jack, “The answer is no. We are never, ever, getting back together. Like, ever.”  
It takes a minute for the Taylor Swift reference to sink in, but when it does and we laugh, she just grins. It loosens that thing in my chest.


	5. Staggeringly Brave

Tour life is continually exhausting and exciting in turn. We settle into a routine, running, promo, shows, only broken up by occasional hotel stays.  
Tonight’s one of those nights.  
We’re waiting for room keys in hotel lobby in New York City, when a guy wraps his arms around Eli’s waist from behind. She tenses, then relaxes immediately, turning to kiss his cheek. Then he sets her down long enough for her spin and throw her arms around him.  
“Mi alma.” He says into her hair. He’s slightly taller than she is, but built similarly, super slim and muscular. He’s tan with brown hair and eyes. He steps back to dimple at Eli, and even the way holds himself mirrors Eli, that proud jut of his chin, the same sort of grace. I’d bet anything this is her Milo.  
Jack guesses as much too, “I take it this is Milo?”  
He laughs delightedly, saying something in Spanish that makes Eli scrunch her nose, “Yes, this is Milo.”  
He shakes our hands and knows our names already.  
When room keys are dispersed, we file into the elevator, even Zach, despite his fear. Milo and Eli end up next to the doors talking quietly.  
“Do you remember?”  
“Texas?”  
“Texas,” Milo nods, “Those beds.”  
“The worst, and,” Eli starts.  
“The showers.” Milo finishes, anguished.  
“Jay?”  
“I tried…”  
“Tomorrow. Have you?”  
“Nah, I was thinking…”  
“Kura.” They say at the same time.  
Everyone in the elevator is staring at them. Milo looks up and pinches El’s side, tilting his head towards us.  
“How do you do that?” Zach asks.  
“What?” They ask at the same time, and I know it’s on purpose when they snicker.  
Zach rolls his eyes as the elevator doors open.

“We should run early.” Eli tells me, as Milo unlocks her door.  
I groan, while Daniel laughs. The guys love giving me shit for this, I’m the only one stupid enough to keep going. She’s invited everyone, but only Jack and Daniel have taken ever her up on it, and only once.

Milo says something in Spanish to make Eli giggle and shuts the door without even a goodnight. I shrug when the other guys look to me. I’m too exhausted to care.

In our room, Daniel looks through the room service menu while I bellyflop into my bed.  
“So you don’t speak any Spanish?”  
I force my head up, “Ah, no. Why?”  
“Milo calls Eli mi alma.”  
“I don’t know what that means.” I lay my head down on my arms.  
“The most literal translation is my soul. Sorry, man.” He really does look sorry. It’s so Daniel, trying to look out for me, but he doesn’t know her like I do.  
“She calls him her soulmate.”  
“Sucks.”  
“No.” I pull my head back up to look him in the eye, “She’s always called him that, even when she was with the ex.”  
Daniel considers that, “Maybe that’s why they broke up?”  
“Milo’s getting married.”  
Daniel looks skeptical.  
“Eli’s genuinely excited about it. It’s not like that.”  
“Just be careful, man.” Daniel repeats his chorus on the subject.  
I want to tell him that it’s already too late, but I keep that to myself.  
He reads out the dinner options, and decides we should shower before calling something in.  
I’m getting dressed my phone buzzes:

Eli-‘How do you feel about Sushi’  
‘Pretty good’  
Eli-‘Lobby in 15? You could bring boys’ 

I knock on the bathroom door. Daniel opens it, only wearing towel around his waist.  
“Eli wants sushi.”  
He looks doubtful. He grew up going to Portland’s Chinatown, and it’s made him a sushi critic.  
“She went to college here, she knows her way around.”  
He looks me over, “For you.”  
I grin, “You’re a good man.”  
He shoos me out to finish getting ready.  
I message the band chat, but Corbyn’s with Christina, Jack’s gone out with his family, leaving only Zach. He reluctantly agrees to come too, not to be left out.

Eli and Milo are waiting when we get to the lobby.  
Eli’s taken her hair down, it makes her look younger, almost sweet. It’s a riot of haphazardly parted curls, tucked behind her ears.  
Milo spots us first, saying something to make her blush.  
It steals the air from my lungs.

Eli not my type. She’s too tall, too skinny, too blonde.  
That’s never been my thing, except now she’s all I think about.  
Everything about this girl throws me through a loop.

She addresses Daniel, “Kura’s at least as good as West Coast sushi, promise.”  
“Elijah’s dragged me everywhere in the city, we know.” Milo crosses a hand over his heart.  
“I didn’t know you were sushi snob.” I tease Eli, walking behind her out of the hotel.  
This strikes Milo as hilarious, “Next time you’re flying, make her eat airport food.”  
“Grosero!” Eli shoves at him, ducking down the subway stairs before he can retaliate.  
Milo rolls his eyes taking the stairs as quickly as she did. Their pace is a jog, like everyone else in this city.  
On the train, Milo and Eli don’t brace for it to move, but when it jerks forward neither of them wavier.  
Zach takes in the whole experience with wide eyes. It only takes fifteen minutes before we’re running after Milo and Eli again, out of the subway and up to the sidewalk.  
They navigate the city expertly. The cars, pedestrians, and construction traps are obstacles they anticipate. It’s pretty impressive.

When we get to the restaurant, the woman behind the counter exchanges greetings with Milo and Eli in what I think is Japanese, then we’re shown a booth in the back.  
We’re never given menus, but tea and water are brought to the table, and every waiter stops to hold patient conversations with Eli and Milo.  
They aren’t fluent, but they’re encouraged anyway.  
Food comes without us ordering, and even Daniel is impressed.

While we eat I observe how Milo and Eli take care of each other. They do it without acknowledging it. Milo refills her cup, Eli puts her ginger on his plate, he tucks her hair back, she hands him another napkin. It’s all these tiny inconspicuous actions, but everything is expectation, they never ask, and that exposes their closeness.

I like how they are together. Milo is quick and funny, and he brings out this brighter side of Eli. She shines next to him.

 

Eli steals a half-eaten roll off Milo’s plate as he sits up straighter, launching into another story. There’s something wolfish in his smile, “Okay, so. We’re in a tour bus.”  
“Not a particularly nice one, not like yours.” Eli already recognizes where he’s going with this.  
“Still.” Milo continues, “We’re on a tour bus. Elijah, me, and a couple guys from a band that was opening for her Dad. It was the summer before senior year, so we were, like, seventeen.”  
“Sixteen.”  
“We were sixteen. They’d come out after their set, and Mr. Kelley’s never been much for supervision.”  
“There was a bodyguard.”  
“Do you want to tell the story?” Milo glares at her playfully.  
“Absolutely not.”  
“Okay, then. Silencio, mujer.”  
Eli rolls her eyes, but closes her mouth, “There wasn’t a babysitter, we’re partying, and this guy, the singer? He touches her.”  
She grimaces. “Gropes. Inelegantly.”  
“What?” I spit, angry at even the idea of it.  
“No, trust me.” Milo holds up a hand, “Eli turns on him asks, ‘Were you trying to hand me something?’ Giving him an out basically, but this idiot didn’t take it, tried to flirt with her instead. So,” His vicious smile returns, “So, Elijah hauls back and decks him.”  
My eyes go wide.  
Milo laughs, “It was beautiful. He got bloody lip and freaked out. She smiled, and said, ’Oh, you thought we were getting, uh que hacen los gatos?” He turns to Eli.  
Eli translates for him, “Frisky. I told him he thought we were getting frisky, I thought we were boxing, and the problem with assuming those things is that they’re crimes when everyone doesn’t consent beforehand.”  
“She wiped the blood on her knuckles down his shirt.” Milo says, pride shining in his eyes, “No one helped him either. He had to sit there for the rest of the night, bleeding from the mouth.” Milo nods at us, “So don’t ever forget Elijah is a badass.”  
Eli buries her head into Milo’s shoulder, “Zach is sixteen, ‘Lo.”  
“It’s still a good lesson.”  
Eli shakes her head, “Nos va a despedir.”  
“Who was it?” Daniel asks.  
“The singer?” Eli look up.  
“Yeah.”  
“Not telling you that.”

Instead Eli breaks the moment by telling us about fourteen-year-old Milo taunting Colton into a dare which resulted in Colton buying him Starbucks every morning for a month.  
By the time we’re back at the hotel, we’re laughing again.

Corbyn texts an invite to hang out in his room because our sleep schedules are so screwed up, we’re all wired now. We crowd in, supposedly to watch the baseball game.  
I’m mostly watching Eli and Milo though, so I catch Jack staring too.

They’re sitting on the floor, Milo’s back to the bed, Eli’s back to his chest. In this light, it would be easy to mistake them for siblings, if they weren’t colored differently. Christina was absolutely right about that. Corbyn and Jack weren’t at dinner, so they haven’t been inoculated to the way Eli and Milo interact.

Jack finally asks, “How did you guys meet?”  
Milo smiles. “I moved in Middle School, and I was unmistakably on scholarship.”  
“Which is something to be proud of.” Eli says fiercely.  
Milo pats her leg, “Most of the kids didn’t see it that way. They didn’t like my hand-me-down books, or old uniforms.”  
“I loved your sisters shoes.”  
“Pink converse were a bad choice for a first day as the new kid.”  
I wince. I would think so. Especially a boy like Milo, who I can only imagine as even smaller ten years ago.  
“We went to preforming arts school, I thought it would be different.” Milo shrugs.  
“Plus, we had academics until lunch.”  
“Not my strong suit. By the time I had class with Elijah, I’d been called a number of awful things, and eaten lunch alone. Then I had to go to dance… I’d seen her at lunch, sitting with the popular kids, and upperclassman.” He’s teasing her, and it softens the hard set her face had taken when he was talking about bullying, “She walks right up to me though, in her brand-new shoes and fancy leotard, looks me up and down and says, ‘tu puedes bailar, derecho?’ I was so thrown, I just said yes.”  
She tucks her face into his chest, “What you should have said was assuming you spoke Spanish was stereotyping.”  
“You’ve apologized for that plenty.” Milo speaks over her, “So she grabs my wrist, lifts our arms in the air, and declares ‘He’s mine’ to the entire class.” Milo beams at this.  
“Siempre cierto.”  
“Suddenly, my scholarship had money for new slippers and clothes, I was in Eli’s fancy honors classes, and no one dared to say shit to me again.”  
Eli rolls her eyes. “I’ve told you a hundred times I had nothing to do with your scholarship.” Milo gives her a look.  
Neither of them break, until he thumbs over her check, and she smiles for him. It’s a motion so practiced, his thumb knows exactly where to find her dimple.  
“We’ve been best friends ever since.”

“I don’t speak Spanish.” Zach looks sheepish,“What did you ask him?”  
“You can dance, right?” They laugh when we do, “It wasn’t really a question. His shoes were so worn out, he’d either been running marathons in gravel, or practicing for hundreds of hours.”  
“You assumed it was the later.”  
Eli runs a finger up his thigh, making him point his feet. The muscles in his leg flex, and even in jeans you can see crazy muscle definition, “You had Rudolf Nureyev’s calves even at twelve.”  
“Hah, I would cometería crímenes por eso ahora.” Milo makes her giggle.

Eli and Milo spark. They’re a force of nature together, like a hurricane and tornado in the same room.  
Eli turns it down around us, but with Milo she’s on. I don’t believe in the cliche of soulmates, but I can see why Eli would describe him that way.

  
The conversation fades and we flip channels for a bit before Milo points to a case propped up in the corner or the room, “Who’s guitar?”  
“Mine.” Corbyn answers him.  
“May I?” Milo asks.  
Corbyn hands it to him, and Eli moves forward giving Milo space to mess with it.  
He says something quietly to her in Spanish.  
“How do you talk so fast?” Daniel asks. He took Spanish in school, instead of French like the rest of us.  
“Milo’s family is Puerto Rican.”  
“I don’t know what that means...”  
“Puerto Ricans speak with a clip.” Milo explains.  
“Jayden used to say it was espadio. Too fast for two words.” Eli smiles, “He’s better now.”  
This makes Milo scoff, “I mean...”  
She pokes at his knee making his leg jump.  
“Detener ese.” He swats at her, “Por favor?”  
She hesitates, but he gives her the guitar.  
“Elige tu veneno?” She won’t look at the rest of us, but we’re all watching her now.  
I might be holding my breath. She hasn’t done this in front of us on purpose before.  
“Canta para mi?” Milo requests, gently.

Eli starts playing then. I didn’t even know she could. It comes easily to her though, and she closes her eyes when she starts signing. She doesn’t even need to look at the guitar, she’s so good.

Eli’s voice is unreal, exactly as perfect as it seemed that morning in her Dad's kitchen.  
It blows my mind how talented she is. Everything she does, undoes me.

Corbyn muted the television when Eli started the song, and Jack breaks the silence when she’s finished, “Why don’t you have a recording contract?”  
Eli’s ears go red.  
“Your dad could have done that, right?” Christina asks.  
Milo answers for her, tucking his head down on Eli's shoulder, their faces pressed close together, “Elijah hates fame.”  
“Hate’s a strong word.”  
“She’s got offered a ridiculous amount for a demo, and turned it down cold.”  
“You know why.” Eli bumps her nose into his cheek.  
“I wouldn’t let you be a Miley, mi alma. You could be a Taylor.”   
This code I actually understand. It strikes me as ridiculous, I can’t imagine this girl ever acting like either of those. Eli crinkles her nose.  
“There’s a happy medium somewhere.”  
“I know the industry. I’m not sacrificing my head for money.” She mumbles, clearly tired of this conversation.  
“It’s a good head.” Milo kisses her forehead, “It’s still a shame the world doesn’t get your voice.”  
“My corner of it does.” She starts playing the guitar again, some old Miley Cyrus song that Milo and Christina belt out with her.

I can understand why she wouldn’t trade her voice for her private life, but I can't help wondering what she thinks of me.  
I traded the life I might have had for this, my talent in exchange for the opportunity of money and fame. Does that make her respect me less?

It nags at me, but Eli and Jack do a crazy rendition of ‘Love Interruption’ and the night moves on. Zach makes us do ‘FourFiveSeconds’, Eli pulling off Rihana surprisingly well for someone with that sweet of a vocal range. I shouldn’t be surprised. She gets Corbyn to do early Taylor Swift, and he murders it, much to Christina’s delight. Then Daniel plays and Eli helps him work out the chords for our next mashup.

It reminds me why I love music and these people.

 

We’re in the hotel lobby before the sun comes up to run, Eli’s eyes darker than usual but her smile quicker.  
“Milo stay the night?” He’d left to her room with her when we had gone to bed.  
She nods, “He’ll be asleep for a while still.”

We start our run in silence. The sound of our feet hitting the pavement and our breathing synchronizing, centers me. I wonder if it does the same for her.  
I didn’t think I would actually like this, but I do.

 

“Do you think I’m a sell out?”  
Eli trips. I probably should have given her some warning. I catch her before she can fall, pulling her to my chest. Then we’re standing still. The city is just starting to wake up around us, traffic filling the streets, the sun just now rising, shading her face in shadows.  
I don’t let go. She doesn’t push me away.  
“No.” She stares into my eyes, “I think you’re staggeringly brave.”  
She takes a breath, I can feel her chest move against mine.  
“I’m a little in awe of you, actually. You work so hard every day for this insane dream you had. And you’ve turned that into a career. I think you’re incredible, Jonah. I really do.”

I think she might kiss me.

At least, until her phone rings. She jumps, stepping away to pick it up, mouthing ‘Milo’.

I want to rewind and relive the last two minutes over and over again. I want to live in the feeling of this incredible person, this enigma of a girl, telling me she’s in awe of me.

I want to yell from the rooftops; she thinks I’m incredible.  
Instead, when we get back in the hotel elevator and she asks why I’m smiling, I just smile more.  
   
 

 

 


	6. Like You Anyway

“Don’t you own clothes of your own?” Jack drawls from his seat opposite me. We’re back on the bus, driving down the highway. He’s looking Eli over where she’s perched on the counter.  
“Excuse me?” Eli asks, obviously fake outrage coloring her voice.  
“Like even a single tee-shirt that fits?” Jack smirks.  
Eli, as a rule, doesn’t wear anything showing off her body. She’s always in too big shirts, sweatshirt, and sweaters. She might wear skinny jeans, but she drowns them.  
She pulls it off though.  
“Why are you so interested in what’s under my shirt, Jack?” She manages to keep a straight face.  
He chokes, then chucks a pillow at her.  
She catches it, then comes over to hit him with it. They wrestles for it, and I can't help but laugh with them, until she’s halfway on his lap, then I whistle sharp and loud to interrupt.  
"Bro!" Zach snaps, ”I need my eardrums!"  
"Sorry."  
Eli backs off Jack, but keeps the pillow. She lies down on the floor placing it under her head, sticking out her tongue. I can hardly believe this is the same girl I could barely get to smile a few weeks ago.  
I give Zach the television remote in apology. He accepts, turning on Sponge-Bob, because he's actually six, not sixteen.

I slide down and stretch out next to Eli on the floor. There's not much space, she’s nearly as tall as I am. I settle a hand in the dip of her waist, and think could probably wrap my hands all the way around it if we were standing. She turns to face me, but doesn’t move my hand. I breathe her in, sugar and citrus.

She reaches out to push my hair off my forehead. I don’t stop her either, and she does it again. I close my eyes, and when I peek back at her, one dimple is showing from her little grin.  
She sits up after a moment, putting the pillow over her lap. I place my head there, turning to check that’s what she wanted, but she's already gone to work. She carefully runs her fingers through my hair, then massages my scalp and neck.

I’m asleep in five minutes, her hands in my hair, and my head in her lap.

 

The first time I wake up, I’m alone in the space with Eli. The rest of the guys have left. They must have stepped over us, or the-floor-is-lava-ed their way out.

Eli's sleeping, her body tucked into the remaining space on the tile.  
It occurs to me that we’re on the floor, that it isn't going to be a comfortable place to wake up a second time, and anyone could walk back in; but one look at her serene face, and I don't care.

I'm asleep in seconds.

 

The second time I wake up, I’m completely alone.

The guys are still gone, but I can hear Eli talking to someone in the kitchenette.  
I stretch, sore from the floor like I knew I would be, and follow the sound of her voice. Eli’s FaceTiming someone, bent down to look at the screen of her laptop sitting on the counter.  
I stand in the doorway watching her.

“You’re sure?” It’s Colton on her screen, asking for approval.  
“You’re going to knock her socks off.”  
“Hopefully that’s not all.” Colton huffs.  
“You’re terrible.”  
“I better go.”  
“Alright.”  
“Love you.”  
Eli tucks her hair behind her ear, “Love you too.”  
“Bye, Baby. Goodbye Jonah!” Colton says as he disconnects.  
I guess he could see me too. Eli spins to find me. She looks me over, her smile going softer and more genuine. I really like causing that reaction.  
“What’s up with him?” My voice is scratchy and low. I pull out a water out of the fridge.  
“Third date tonight.”  
I lean against the counter and look her over, “Come with me?”  
“Of course.” I sort of love this about her, she just goes with things.

I take her hand and steal a blanket off the couch. We walk into the field next to the lookout the bus is parked at. I spread out the blanket, and we both lie down, watching the sky go dark.  
“I can’t even remember where we are.”  
“Arizona.”  
“I’m not sure what it’s like not to be tired anymore.”  
She sighs, “You’re just getting started.”  
“This is everything I wanted,” I explain, “Everything I dreamed of. Getting to do this…Getting to perform, make people happy, make some kind of difference, but I’m so tired.” She hums.  
“And I’m jealous of Corbyn.”  
This makes her turn towards me, “Why?” She’s curious, but not judgmental.  
“He’s got Christina. She cares if the plane lands, if he’s staying hydrated, if he's happy. It’s been a long time since I knew I had that.”  
“I understand.”  
I know she does. She helped her ex-boyfriend, who she admittedly still loves, get ready for a date with someone else.  
Her life makes my head spin.

“Do you regret it?”  
“Colt?”  
“Yeah.”  
She looks up again, “Dating him or breaking up with him?” I’m not sure which I meant, but she doesn’t pause, “No. I don’t regret either.”

I don’t know how to voice all of the questions that run through my mind.  
How can she not regret it, at least a little? How can she give him dating advice? Does he do the same for her?

“The possibility of pain is always the buy in for love, Jo. I love him, and I don't regret that. Colton was the best boyfriend I could have had, when I really needed that.”  
I study her profile, but she doesn’t look back at me.  
“When my mom died, he carried me through it. He carried me through a lot, actually.”  
“I didn’t know.” It spills out, “I’m so sorry.”  
I reach for Eli’s hand, and she laces her fingers through mine.  
Her hands are always freezing.  
“It was a long time ago. She wasn’t my parent. Not really, my grandparents raised me. My mother was an addict, a mean drunk, and she died when I was nineteen.” She says this factually, almost emotionless. It’s a story she’s told enough to wear the sharp edges down.  
It makes me unspeakably sad. I’m nineteen, now, and I can’t imagine losing a parent.

“I was terrified, when we finally broke up. Colton had been with me through everything.”  
“I don’t know how you can watch him move on.”  
“I’ve always wanted him happy. Maybe this is the girl, maybe she isn’t, but I’m not that girl.”  
“You just get along so well.” I know it sounds bitter. I can’t seem to stop that when it comes to this.  
“I can’t see my life without him,” She confesses,“But I couldn’t build a life with him. I want a big life, full of decisions he would never make and things he’d never try. We both deserve more that what we were willing to give each other, and I always knew that. I chose to risk good, for better."

I squeeze her hand, and we lie there for ages, talking and waiting on the stars to come out.  
I would have stayed there all night, just to be next to her, wondering if I could be better.

 

We’re nearly back to California, going to spend a couple days in Los Angeles for a video shoot, half-bored out of our minds with the drive, when Eli’s computer starts blaring music.  
She’d been working, intently typing at her computer for the last hour.  
“Sorry, sorry!” She scrambles to shut it off, but Jack leaps up from his place on the sofa to swipe her laptop from her.  
He looks at it, and she looks at him.  
“Holy shit, that’s you.”  
“Language.” Daniel cuts in, but Jack ignores him, pulling up the AppleTV, and flinging a video from her computer to the screen.  
“Jack.” Eli says his name like a warning, or a plea.  
He doesn’t respond starting the video instead.  
“Careful with the equipment, please.” Eli buries her head in her hands on the table.  
On the television Eli appears, standing in an empty room wearing a dress and pointe shoes. Music starts, and she moves into action. She’s danced in front of us before, but not like that. It’s amazing. The video plays through, ending with her asking “Happy now, ‘Lo?” walking towards the camera, grinning as she turns it off.

Eli sticks a hand out, her head still firmly on the table, “Can I have it back now?”  
No one says a word.  
“Seriously, Jack. I need to get this to…” Her voice drifts off when she looks up at us staring at her, she steels herself, “Okay… Don’t all talk at once.”  
This breaks Zach, “You’re like, so good.”  
“Thanks, Zachary Dean.” She reaches across the table to tug on his ear, making him blush and duck his head.  
“That was awesome, Eli. Really.” Jack echoes.  
“Like holy shit, for real.” Eben’s eyes are wide.  
Daniel’s hand shoots up like we’re in class.  
“Yes, Daniel?” Eli asks. Jack and Corbyn snort.  
“What’s this for?”  
It’s a good question. The video is high quality, and she started to say she needs to get it somewhere.  
“Are you, like, looking for another job?” Zach jumps in.  
Eli tilts her head back, not facing any of us.  
“Well, I imagine this is why you didn’t say anything?” Corbyn looks at her.  
She give him a half-smile, “Do you want to?”  
I don’t know why, but I wasn’t excepting that.  
Corbyn shrugs, “Only if you’re good with it.”  
Eli stands up, taking her laptop back from Jack, “I didn’t think it would go on this long. I’m going to finish this in the back.”  
“Cool cool.” Corbyn responds, as she leaves the room.  
Corbyn pinches the remote from Jack and navigates to YouTube.  
“What are you doing, bro?” Daniel asks.  
Corbyn shakes his head, “She expected us to look her up, when she starting working for us, but none of us did. This is how she knows Christina.” He types ‘Check your Attitude’ into the search bar, and when he clicks the channel, they have nearly three million subscribers. The introduction video starts playing automatically, Milo and Eli standing in a studio, hanging off each other grinning.  
“Hi everybody!” Milo says. He’s shirtless, showing off a six pack. Eli’s wearing a leotard, and it’s the most exposed I’ve ever seen her.  
She’s so hot.  
Not that she isn’t always hot. She is. I’m just around her all day, pretty much everyday.  
There’s a million hot girls, and Eli doesn’t really try to be that.  
Not usually, but she is there.  
‘I’m Milo, and this is the ever gorgeous Elijah.’  
She pokes him.  
He continues, ‘You’ve found our channel.’  
‘Check Your Attitude.’ They sing-song together, pronouncing attitude with some kind of accent, going up on their toes, kicking one leg up, bending it. They hold it for a second, then drop back down.  
‘Check out our videos,’ Milo puts an elbow on Eli’s shoulder.  
She points up where suggested videos appear, ‘Tell us what you enjoy, and request a song in the comments.’ Milo gestures down to where the comment box would be.  
They both smile at the camera for a minute, then collapse into giggles. The screen goes dark, but the audio keeps going, a man’s voice, ‘Oh my god. You’re both such dorks.’  
Then Eli’s voice, ‘Too bad you love us’ and the video ends, a bunch of suggested videos from their channel appearing.

“Play something else.” Jack demands. Corbyn clicks one at random.  
We watch transfixed for several videos. They’re incredible.

Milo and Eli dance together like they have the same puppeteer, the same strings pulling them. They do everything, ballroom, hip-hop, ballet to rap songs, and they’ve been doing it for a long time. The oldest videos are only the two of them. They aren’t the best quality, but the dancing is still excellent. Little Eli and Milo were adorable. Most of their newer ones seem to be tutorials, or ensemble pieces. Eli and Milo center everything though.

“Play the sit-down.” Daniel requests, when the suggested videos come up after a group piece. It’s the option in the center, and opens with Eli sat on a couch, her feet laid across it. Milo’s messing with the camera, then comes into the frame, lifting her feet to sit down, depositing them on his lap.  
‘Is it recording?’  
‘Red lights on.’ Milo points at the camera.  
She pushes at his thigh with a foot when he laughs.  
They sober up after a minute, Milo turns back to the camera, ‘Different kind of video today, everyone. A personal Q&A, if you will.’  
‘Our questions and answers for each other.’  
‘Recorded for you. We’re aiming to clear up some questions.’ Milo holds Eli’s ankles, ‘You first.’  
‘Why did you want to make a YouTube channel?’  
Milo doesn’t have to think about this, ‘I wanted to share dance. I didn’t know any older dancers as a kid, and I knew what it would have meant to me, to see someone that looked like me doing this.’ He smiles at her, ‘Why did you agree to join me?’  
‘I’ve jumped off bridges with you,’ Eli says, matter of factly, making him laugh, ‘and I thought my family could watch. Did you expect to get this many subscribers?’  
‘Never.’ Milo looks down, and he might be blushing, ‘One thousand seemed ridiculous. What’s changed the most about the platform since we started?’  
Neither of them are smiling now. ‘YouTube, and our audience especially, was relentlessly positive. We were kids, too, but it was so generous and genuine. Comments made me happy then.’ She breathes out. Until now, this seemed practiced, at least planned if not rehearsed, but whatever they’re leading towards seems serious, ‘Do you think YouTubers get private lives?’  
‘Yes,’ Milo insists, instantly, ‘I do. I think choosing to show some of our lives on the internet doesn’t entitle anyone to all of it. We don’t owe anybody an explanation for things we haven’t decided to share. Will you talk about why you asked that?’  
Eli nods, ‘Recently, a few people have discovered some things about my family and even more people have speculated about it. Which was fine because, I don’t, as a rule, ever read comments. Do you?’  
Milo shakes his head, ‘No. Not since high school. A trusted friend does, and they take our answers for the good ones, but no, I don’t read comments. Can you talk about how we found out about the conspiracies?’  
‘Someone found my family, and started harassing them on social media.’ She’s seemed sad, until this moment, but now there’s fire in her eyes. Milo looks furious too. ‘Someone sent my sixteen-year-old brother some horrible things. He’s a kid. He had to delete his private accounts, because of me. That’s not okay.’  
‘Not even in the same universe as okay.’ Milo confirms, ‘So that’s the point of this video, our families haven’t made the decision to put their lives on YouTube, and everyone is entitled to privacy. Including us.’  
‘But in the spirit of transparency, which I don’t owe anyone,’  
‘Absolutely not.’  
‘My mother died, and that’s why I’ve been absent from a lot of our videos lately. I love dancing for you, but I needed a break. Milo has been so supportive.’  
‘Todo por ti, mi alma.’ Milo says, softly, then turns back to the camera, ‘I think that should fulfill enough curiosity. If it doesn’t, think about what we said about privacy. Thanks for sticking with us, guys.’  
Milo gets up to turn the video off, and Eli waves at the camera before it goes black.  
No one says a word.

“She told my sisters to be careful on twitter.” Jack breaks.  
“What?” Daniel looks at him.  
“Eli.” He fidgets with his sleeve, “At the concert my sisters came to, I overheard her telling them to be careful on twitter.”  
“It must have been Penn, right?” Daniel does the math. Merritt would have been too young.  
I nod, she is extremely close to Penn, and I can’t imagine how much that had to hurt, especially after losing her mother.  
“Her mom’s dead?” Zach asks, and he looks distraught.  
“Yeah...” Corbyn says. “Christina showed me this before, but she didn't know a whole lot about it.”  
I don't explain, even though I could. That's her story to tell.  
“How big is this?” August asks, “Her channel?”  
“It’s not just YouTube.” Corbyn says, “It’s like a company.”  
“They’ve got a website.” Eben turns his computer around, the webpage pulled up. It’s full of modern graphics and smiling dancers. He clicks on the ‘About Us’ page, and there’s Eli and Milo, smiling with written bios he scrolls quickly through, there’s more instructors listed under them, and awards. Apparently ‘Attitude’ has a studio in New York and over three hundred students.  
I don’t want to learn about this stuff from the internet though, I want Eli to tell me.  
I head towards the back.  
“Where are you going?” Zach calls, and someone pops him. I hear his ouch, and the rest of the guys diving back into sleuthing.

Eli’s sitting on the sofa with headphones on. She takes them off when I sit down next to her. “So, YouTube?”  
She nods, but doesn’t elaborate.  
“You took this job as a favor, didn’t you?” It clears up a lot, “You own that building.”  
“Attitude LLC does. I own thirty percent of that. Milo owns forty. We have a voting majority. We have investors, and our CFO owns ten percent.” She bites her lip, “Yes, I took this job as a favor. You already knew your manager is a friend of my dad’s. He found out I was working in LA, and got in touch. That wasn’t the only reason I took the job,” She stresses, “I really do believe in you guys.”  
“Why didn’t you say anything?” She’s proud of Attitude, and loves teaching, that shows, but even when we were reluctant students, she didn’t bring up the fact that she's kind of a big deal.  
She lifts her shoulder, “You didn’t have any ideas about me, when I walked in that first day. None of you expected anything. I didn’t have to be Baby Kelley, or Elijah James for you.” She looks towards the window, “I was prepared for that, but then I met you guys and not one of you recognized me. I wanted to earn your respect, not throw the weight of our company around to get it…” She spins her bracelet, “There’s only so many people I can be myself with, and I selfishly wanted to be that here. You cared more about getting to know me, than the work I’ve done, and I liked it.”  
“Care.” I correct. “I care more about getting to know you, than any of the work you’ve done.” I tuck that piece of hair that always comes loose from her braid behind her ear, “It’s all impressive, but I like you anyway.”

She blushes, dropping her bracelet. She doesn’t get a chance to respond though, because Zach comes crashing in the room, brandishing his phone, the other boys behind him, screaming, “You know Justin Bieber?!”   
And neither of us are feeling brave enough to kick them out to continue that conversation.  
 


	7. Failing Adulthood

I’ve been in wardrobe for our video shoot for what feels like half the morning. It’s weird being back here. We’ll be back on the road in less than a week, but it was bizarre to watch Eli leave yesterday, and Eben and August, knowing we weren’t going to the same place.

When I’m finally freed from makeup, I’m directed to the studio and spot Eli.  
She’s across the room, showing extras some choreography.

She’s wearing a nice top tucked into skinny slacks, her perfect ballet bun, and high heels.  
She looks a little like every librarian fantasy ever had, all she needs are glasses.

“Eli?” I sit down on the hood of a prop car. I’m alone in front of the green screen for now. I think the rest of the guys are still stuck in wardrobe, or gone to find craft services. We’re permanently hungry, and they have the best snacks.  
Eli whistles when she gets close,“I like your jacket.”  
I can’t help my smile, “I like your shoes.”  
“You should have seen Jack’s face. He said I’m banned from wearing heels again.”  
I roll my eyes. She’s taller than him anyway, and she literally dances on her toes.  
“You should wear them everyday if you like them.”  
She gives me that perfect grin.  
“Can you…?” I push myself up to standing, gesturing towards the set,“Make me look cool?”  
“You always looks cool.”  
“We both know that isn’t true.”  
She offers me a hand, and I take it pulling her in, wrapping an arm around her waist to dip her. She laughs and steps back once she’s upright, moving to show me different poses, ways to place myself in the set. When she’s satisfied she sings my lines with me, and twirling around.

Some of the guys wander in, an assistant calling, “Talent on Set!", breaking our moment. Eli squeezes my arm as she walks away, and I don’t follow her.

Daniel goes throw his arm around my shoulder, failing spectacularly. I usually anticipate that move and bend down some. I was too busy watching Eli, I didn’t notice him. He gives me the most betrayed expression. He cracks after a second though, both of us laughing.

Sometimes, never being by myself sucks. Living with the band, sharing everything is hard, and I get desperate for space. Then these goons remind me I’m never alone, and that settles the anxious parts of me. I’ve got brothers and backup in everything. I am so grateful to be doing this with them. They bring me in when things get crazy.  
Eli makes me a little crazy.

I spend the rest of the day watching her out of the corner of my eye. She offers quiet advice and considerate suggestions without being intrusive.  
During the boys’ inquisition yesterday, Eli admitted this was a big part of the expansion of Attitude from New York to Los Angles, working on music videos and staging choreography for musicians. She’s clearly good at it.  
When we’re dismissed, she’s long gone.  
I miss her already.  
   
 

   
The next morning, the guys start making plans, skateboarding and shopping. Today’s our only free day while we’re here, and everyone wants to make the most of it.  
I take out my phone and text Eli.

‘Do you have plans right now?’  
‘No?’ -Eli  
‘Come hit some stuff with me?’  
‘Okay. Half an hour?’-Eli  
‘Perfect.’

 

I hustle the guys out the door, as inconspicuously as I can. I grab a ball cap and don’t bother fixing my hair. I can’t stop grinning. Time alone with Eli feels like a gift. When she calls me to let me know the car is pulling up, I lock the door and jog up to the gate, then climb into the backseat of the Uber next to her.  
“This is a terrible idea.” Eli smiles even as she says it.  
“Hello to you too.” I smile back at her. She rolls her eyes. “Why?”  
“I’m not any good at sports.”  
“I don’t believe that. You’re a ballerina.”  
“That’s different.”  
“How?”  
“There aren’t any balls in dance.” She says straight-faced, and I can’t stop my laugh.  
She groans at her mistake.  
“I’m telling Milo you said that.”  
“I didn’t mean it like that.”  
I grin at her.  
She looks amazing today. She’s wearing jeans, an old band tee shirt, ponytail and sunglasses a little too big for her face. It wouldn't work on a lot of girls, but it works on her. It helps that I’m pretty sure her shirts are actually vintage, stolen from her dad. There's holes torn in the hems, and the art is faded.

We joke around and talk about where this tour is going next before we arrive the batting cages. I wasn’t nervous until we got here. I want to impress her, and it’s been months since I’ve picked up a bat.  
She climbs out of the car behind me, and looks nervous too.  
We take turns batting and I only have to show her a couple corrections before she’s got the hang of it. It’s fun to be able to teach her something for a change. She pulls off a couple good hits, and after a warming up I get several I’m happy with. Eli claps and whistles and generally cheers enough to make me blush, my perfect audience of one.

After a couple hours we decide to quit for the day, making our way to the concessions stand. She lets me buy junk food, and finds an open picnic table.  
She climbs to sit on top of it.  
“Rebel.” She smirks as I join her. I place my hat on her head and tuck into the popcorn.  
She tugs it down a little, “You were right.”  
“This was a good idea?”  
“You should do it more often.” She waves back towards the cages, “You’re better than anyone here, and it’s easy to see how much you like it.”  
“I do miss it,” I confess, “The guys are like living with a team, but I miss the sport.”  
She squeezes my knee. I don't need the words to know she understands. Music was undoubtedly the right choice, even if the alternative seems attractive sometimes.  
“Thank you for coming with me. I had a really good time.”  
She leans back on her hands, “Me too.”  
She might be blushing a little, under my hat.  
I want to kiss her.  
I can see all of the ways this could end, and I know most of them are sideways, but I’d bet anything she tastes like lemon and sunrises and I really, really want to find out.  
I start to lean in, when my phone rings.

I pick up because it’s Corbyn, and even though the phone call is quick, Eli must have understood the gist of it, because she’s collected our stuff before I can hang up.  
“Duty calls?” She tosses the trash into the bin.  
I take her hand, “Yeah, it’s…” I lead her to the parking lot, but I’m not sure what I’m allowed to disclose to her. Technically, I think she’s a team member, but I have no idea what she has or hasn’t signed.  
She shrugs, “That’s okay. I understand.”  
The thing is, I really do think she understands. Any of the other dates I’ve been on this year, would have been seriously annoyed at this. Eli doesn’t seem bothered.  
I don’t even know if this is a date, but I’m praying it is.

When we get back to the gate, I don’t ask for my hat back. She doesn’t offer it, and it looks better on her anyway.  
I get out, standing behind the open car door, “Today was great.”  
“Today was perfect.” Eli corrects me, “Thank you.”  
I smile at her like an idiot, then duck down to kiss her cheek. I pull back, slam the door, and run down the drive before she has a chance to say anything.  
When I close the door behind myself inside, I know I’m still smiling too wide and Jack looks at me funny.

I’ve never liked someone the way I like her.

 

We’re in wardrobe the next morning when Eli walks in. We’re wearing tuxes in today’s shoot, currently in various stages of undressed. She’s got coffee in one hand and her phone in the other; I can tell from her half-sentences that it’s Milo on the line.

“Oh. I’ve got to step in. Te amo, gordo.” She hangs up, shoves her phone in her back pocket, and sets her cup down on a table. Disapproval is written all over her face as she looks around the room, “You aren’t seriously using clip-on ties are you?”  
Jonathan, our stylist, coughs a little, “Ah, none of us can tie a bowtie.”  
Eli stares him down, “Where are they?”  
He points to a bag in the corner. Eli grabs it, walking up to me. She pulls up my collar to remove my tie in sharp quick movements. Her clever hands carefully adjust a real one, sizing it to my neck, before tying it. She steps back after she’s finished, smoothing my collar down, running a finger between my skin and shirt, checking the fit. It sends a shiver down my spine. I look in the mirror. It’s perfect, and looks so much better than the fake.  
Jonathan is looking at her like she’s just performed magic.  
“Next.” She winks at me, and I steal her coffee off the table. She watches me, but doesn’t stop me. She likes it the way I do, her chapstick on the lid makes it sweeter.  
Jack steps up, “Where did you learn this?”  
Eli does up half the buttons he’d left undone, “I’ve worn dozens of these things for competitions.” She loops the tie around his neck, “Plus, I went to private school.” She finishes tying it, and doesn’t check his fit the way she checked mine, just smooths his shirt on his shoulders, sending him to the side.  
Daniel is next, “You had to wear bowties?”  
“Yes,” Eli repeats her process on him, “It’s pretty common in dance.” She straightens his tie after it’s on, making him smile at his shoes from her fussing.  
Corbyn slides into her space, hip-checking Daniel out of the way, peering into the bag of ties, “Ah, man. I was hoping there’d be fun ones.”  
Eli grabs both sides of his shirt to fix the crooked buttons, holding him still, “I’m pretty sure the point is to match.”  
Corbyn pouts, but smiles at himself in the mirror when she’s done. He goes to mess with it, making Eli swat his hands down, “No touching.”  
“That’s what she said.” Jack smirks from across the room.  
“Could you teach me?” Zach asks shyly, the way he sometimes is around Eli.  
Eli dimples at him. She’s gentle with him, more so than the rest of us, probably because he’s Merritt’s age. I have the same instinct, because Zach’s the baby.  
“Absolutely.” She fits a tie to his collar, then takes a second one and loops it around her own neck. She points him away from the mirror, and walks him through the steps, showing him how to copy the movements she makes on hers.

When they’re done, Eli has a perfectly straight bow on her bare neck, emphasizing her collarbones and thin shoulders. Zach has a crooked one, but he smiles like he’s accomplished something major.  
She straightens his, “You’ll have to practice, but my first try wasn’t half this good.”  
Zach beams, “I’ve never tied a tie before.”  
“I’ll teach you a Trinity knot later.”  
“Awesome.”

Jonathan is still staring at Eli like he doesn’t know where she came from. I slap him hard on one shoulder as I down the last of her coffee. It’s half-consolation, and a warning.  
Eli confuses me constantly, but I’m not giving up.

Zach goes to find a belt and Eli frowns at the cup still in my hand, “That’s gone, isn’t it?”  
“I’ll get you another?”  
She shakes her head, but lets me lead her out of the room. We’re in the hallway when Jonathan yells, “Shoes, Jonah!” I want to smack myself, this girl gets me so distracted I’d walk into traffic if she started that direction.  
She laughs while I grab a pair. When we’re on our way to craft services, out of earshot I ask her, “Have fun watching us fail at adulthood?”  
“Not knowing how to tie a bowtie is failing adulthood?”  
“Maybe.”  
“You pay rent, and some of you even manage to keep clean clothes.” She steps up to the coffee bar, taking down a second cup, “I think you’re doing okay.”  
I pry the lid off hers and she pours both full. “It seems like something real men know how to do. Tie a tie, fix a flat, that kind of thing.”  
Eli grins, “When I was sixteen, my grandfather insisted I had to learn to change a tire by myself. We ended up in the driveway, he and I and his brand-new car, and it turns out, he doesn’t actually know how to do it either.”  
I can picture it, Eli’s great at a lot of things, but I can’t see her as a mechanic, “What happened?”  
“My grandmother came home and found all of us, him, me, the tire, laying on the ground a hour later. She got it back on in minutes.” She looks me in the eyes, “Being an adult isn’t a series of achievements or skills you unlock, it’s just doing the grownup thing.”  
I knock my shoulder against hers, “So you can’t change a tire?”  
“Nope, but I can’t drive either so…” She takes a sip from the new cup, letting me keep hers.  
“You can’t drive?” I don’t think I know anyone that’s of age and doesn’t have a license.  
Eli blushes, “I wasn’t very good at it, then I lived in New York.”  
“I couldn’t wait. I made my dad take me to the DMV when they opened on my sixteenth birthday.”  
“But you don’t have a car here?”  
We’re nearly back to the staging area, and I know she’s going to disappear into work-mode soon.  
I want to drag this out as long as I can, “There’s no point here.” Los Angeles is a traffic nightmare, we do nearly everything as a band, so having my own car here would be pointless.  
“There you go.” Eli pushes the door open, “That’s why I’ve never gotten around to it. Plus, it’s embarrassing.” She grins over her shoulder at me, walking further into the room, “At least I know how to tie a tie.” 

 

 

We’ve landed a television appearance at the end of next week, so we’re back in Eli’s studio rehearsing when she stops the music. Again.  
I know I’m screwing it up, I can’t seem to help it. No one says a word as Eli considers us. She makes up her mind, walking towards me. She waves the rest of the guys off, “You can take a break. We’re going to fix this.”  
One side of her mouth lifts up enough to let me know she hasn’t given up on me. The guys laugh, so I know they aren’t too frustrated with me either.  
Eli takes my hand leading me over to her speakers. She lets go of me to scroll through her phone, picking a new song. It’s not the song we’re preforming, or even one of ours. It’s an older track, something I might have heard in middle school.  
Jack whistles from across the room, “This is hot!” Corbyn and Daniel snicker.  
“Ignore them.”  
That’s easy, I don’t tell her.  
When I’m looking at you, the rest of the world isn’t half as interesting, I don’t say.  
I just nod.  
“You’re trying too hard.” She takes both my hands, “I don’t want you to entertain me, Jonah. I want you to seduce me.” She looks at me from under her lashes, all sincerity and sex.  
I nearly bite my tongue.  
I don’t tell her I’ve been trying to do that for weeks.  
She pulls me in, rolling her body with mine. She stays close, dropping my hands, “I know you’re sweet, but you can be naughty. I’ve seen those interviews. You look right at the camera and pull those faces.”  
I want to play dumb, but I know exactly what she’s talking about. When interview get boring, I mess around with the camera, stick my tongue out and pull my brows.  
I know management hates it, it’s not a team effort. Jack’s allowed to be salty, his piercings and perm give him the ‘bad boy’ edge. I just like the power in stealing attention.  
That Eli’s noticed, and maybe she likes it, makes me feel a little high.  
“Those boys don’t say you get the most girls for no reason.”  
I grip her hips.  
“I know what you’re capable of, and you have this.” Her grins is wicked, pushing us into the beat.  
I push back, and she lets me lead.  
I give in, spinning her, splaying one hand across her abdomen. I feel the muscles flex when she rolls her hips, my hand nearly reaching from hip to hip.  
I fall into it, the rhythm of her hips, the way she moves, and forget to be self-conscious.

When the song ends, I’m panting, and Corbyn wolf-whistles. The rest of the guys clap.  
I might blush, but Eli doesn’t seem bothered at all.  
“You’re good at this.” She insists, “You’re really good at this, don’t let choreography or a camera get in the way of that.”  
That’s a pretty lie, but I nod anyway.  
She claps, “Okay. Places, guys. Let’s take it from the top.”

When the music starts, I think about seducing Eli, instead of entertaining anyone else, and it works.  
Corbyn’s exasperated, “Why didn’t you do that an hour ago?”  
Eli shakes her head, “I didn’t do anything.”  
No one believes that, but we don’t protest when she moves on.

We practice until the sun goes down, until the choreography feel natural, then Eli send us on our way. I hate leaving without her.  
I didn’t think I would be this excited to get back on the tour bus tomorrow, but I am.  
I even miss running with her.  
 


	8. Everything Hurts

We’ve been on the bus for less than an hour when Jack tackles Daniel into the floor. They roll around wrestling, making Eben groan, “The bus is way too small for this.”  
Eli sighs commiserating from her place as Zach’s pillow on the sofa. He’d thrown himself down after her, using her lap to rest his head. The same boy who told me a month ago he was too afraid of her to order guacamole at Chipotle.  
If she was bothered by his intrusion into her personal space, she didn’t show it. She’d just dropped one hand from her phone to mess with his hair.

“So New Girl?” Jack pops his head up.  
“I guess.” Zach groans.  
“Don’t be like that.” Corbyn says, “Just because we decided you were Schmitt doesn’t mean you can’t like it.”  
“I’m not Schmitt!” Zach starts to pull himself up, but Eli’s hand is still in his hair and he stops halfway, deciding it’s not worth it, falling back down.  
“You are.” Daniel says, grinning.  
“Well, if I’m Schmitt, you’re Coach.”  
Daniel rolls his eyes. “As long as that makes Corbyn, Nick.”  
“Is Christina CeCe or Jess?” Corbyn sticks a hand up, “Cause, I’d be Schmitt if Christina is Cece.”  
“Wait, who’s Eli?” Jack looks her over.  
“I would like to be excluded from this narrative.” Eli deadpans. August and I snicker.  
“Well, you live with us.” Corbyn helpfully points out.  
“And if you call me adorkable, I will make you run tomorrow.” Eli smirks.  
“So you’re CeCe.” Corbyn nods, “Good to know.”  
“If she’s CeCe, she’s with Zach.” I remind them.  
“So?” Zach smiles, “We’re cool, aren’t we, E?”  
She looks down at him, “You can run too.”  
“You’re cruel, woman.” Daniel shoves Zach’s feet to make space for himself on their sofa.  
“Not having this conversation!” Eli calls out, but she’s laughing. I put her out of her misery by turning the television on, making everyone quiet down. It is a really good show.

 

I wake up in my bunk, hours after we went to bed, and it’s still dark. I fumble around for my phone to check the time, it flashes brightly reading almost three. I turn over to go back to sleep when I hear talking.  
That must have been what woke me. I'm the lightest sleeper in the band, and there’s no soundproofing on this bus. I try to tune it out, until realize it's Eli.

"My mother lost custody of me when I was really young. My dad wasn’t in a good place to raise a kid either, so my grandparents stepped in.” She's telling someone, I don’t know who. “And I knew it was better I lived with them, but I still wanted my mom.”  
"I wasn’t even a teenager yet when they got divorced.” That’s Jack.  
"That's hard."  
"I was close to him, you know? And he just fucking left.”  
"My mom would blow into town whenever she wanted something. It was always a whirlwind of fun or misery, and I never could predict which.”  
"My dad stopped visiting, after a while, without explaining anything. I haven’t seen him in years. And like, he wants to see me now but I don't know how much of that is because of… this.”  
“There’s no concrete way to tell. That must be really difficult.”  
"I just…” He sighs, “I’m too old now, but I always wanted him to save the day, you know? Show up for a big happy ending.”

They’re quiet for a minute. I carefully pull my curtain an inch to catch a glimpse of them. They're sitting directly on the floor opposite me, outside of Jack’s bunk. He’s got his head cradled in his hands in between his knees. Eli’s sitting with her side pressed against his, her arms around her knees, tucked into a little ball.  
She lays her head on her knee and looks at Jack, “You're not too old. But happy endings don’t exist, I'm sure you've heard that by now. Most endings are ordinary, and some are so abrupt they don’t feel like endings at all. Everyone leaves or dies in the end. You won’t always get the answers you want.” She considers that, “You’ll probably never get the answers you want. You’ve got to find peace with that.”  
He looks up at her "I just..."  
"We don't get to choose our parents."  
"I just wanted him to want me."  
Eli reaches for his wrist, “You have to own that. You’ve got to carry that hurt, over and over again, for your whole life. Nothing he could do now will hurt or heal the past. Maybe, now, he sincerely wants to know you. Maybe there’s other motives, you’ll have to figure that out for yourself. But you have to accept that the past isn’t going to change, even if he has.”  
"And if I can't?" He squares his shoulders, “If I can’t own it? Can’t carry it?"  
"Oh, honey. You already have." She smiles, but it’s bittersweet. She lets go of his wrist, shoving up the sleeve of her shirt to reveal an tattoo circle of words inside her forearm, ”My mother wrote that in a card for me once.”  
Jack takes her arm and thumbs over the ink.  
“I take the best of her with me everywhere. Death didn't redeem her, and life probably wouldn't have either. But I choose to redeem her everyday."  
Jack blows out a breath.  
"It sucks sometimes, but you have to be grateful for the good you have. You've got so much to be thankful for Jack, even the hard stuff. ”  
They sit there for a while longer, tucked together on the floor in the hallway of the bunks. Then Eli stands, pulling him up with her, ”Go to sleep."  
He nods, leaning in to kiss her cheek, whispering something in her ear. She pulls him into a hug before pushing him towards his bunk, and climbing into hers.  
I don’t know how Eli always knows the right thing to say, or where we’d be without her. I’m so grateful she’s here.  
I want to tell her how brave she is.  
I want to tell her it scares me how smart she is.  
I want to tell her she’s beautiful and I want give her a happy ending. Even if she thinks they don’t exists, I want to make one for her.

Instead, I hug her in the morning before our run, and whisper ‘Thank you’ in her hair.

 

 

The routine returns easily to me. Runs, interviews, shows, and bus rides, broken up with occasional hotel stops.  
When Eli texts me while I’m lacing up my shoes, ‘Can’t today. So sorry', I get irrationally worried. She never cancels. We stayed at a hotel last night, and I’m outside her door before I’m fully conscious of my actions.  
She picks up her phone on the first ring, “I’m so sorry.”  
“That’s okay.”  
“I hope you weren’t waiting.” She sounds off.  
“Well… I am now.”  
“I could…” She starts.  
“Open your door?”  
She makes a surprised sound, and I can hear her moving in the room to unlock the door. When she pulls it open, she’s wearing a men’s tee shirt and fuzzy socks. "Jo?"  
I focus on her face. She’s flushed, paler than her already ghostly shade. Her eyes are set in dark circles, her lips are chapped and dark red. She looks miserable.  
“You’re sick?” I feel her forehead, she’s burning up, “Did you catch a cold?”  
She opens her mouth to answer, but instead turns away from me and coughs pathetically. When she’s got her breath back, she walks back into the room. I follow her and close the door behind myself.  
“No.” She crawls back into the bed, and tugs the blankets up to her chin, shivering.  
That’s a poor lie. “Have you taken anything? Can I get you something?”  
She shakes her head into the pillow, “Just need sleep. S'cold.”  
Without thinking too hard, I toe my shoes off and climb in the bed beside her. I put my arms around her, tucking her into my chest. She’s tiny like this. Eli might be tall, but curled in a ball, she’s all boney spine and knees and elbows. She fits kind of perfectly against me. She makes a noise that might be protest.  
“Do you think it’s contagious?”  
She moves her head, her nose bumping into my chest, “Stomach bug.”  
Puking would explain why she smells like mouthwash.  
“Okay then. I never catch those.” I rub her back, "Go to sleep.” She’s too out of it to fight me on this, and in minutes her breathing evens out. After that, I fall asleep without meaning to.

Too soon my phone starts ringing where it’s still in my pocket.  
One of my arms is dead, and Eli stirs at the noise.  
I catch the time as I go to answer and I’m in so much trouble.  
We were supposed to be showered and in the bus half an hour ago.

“Jack.”  
“Bro, where the hell are you?” He sounds like he’s pulling his hair out.  
“I’m with Eli.” He sighs, and relays that message to whoever else is waiting for us.  
“Where exactly did you run to? Canada?” I can hear the fake smile, “You’re almost back right?”  
“Uh…” Eli stretches, her joints making vaguely disconcerting popping sounds.  
“Keep your mouth shut, okay?” He hums a confirmation, “We’re in her room.”  
He chokes. It echoes louder in the phone, and I can pray no one is watching him too closely.  
“Not like that.” I hiss, “She’s sick.”  
There’s silence on the other end of the line, “We’ll be down in like ten minutes. Just stall or something.”  
“You’re on your way?” Jack starts talking over me, “Great, okay, I don’t know how I missed you. Sure, hurry up!”  
I hang up on him, getting out of bed to tug my shoes on.  
Eli’s swings her legs over the side of the bed.  
“I have to get my stuff, I’ll be right back.”  
She tries to nod, but ends up resting her forehead against her knees.  
I check the hall for management before throwing the deadbolt and jogging to my room. Jack’s haphazardly thrown my duffle bag together, and I know I owe him big for this.  
When I make it back across the hall Eli hasn’t moved.  
“How’re you doing?”  
“The world spins if I look up.”  
“That’s…Not good.”  
She groans. I know she’d glare if she could.  
“Can you get pants on?”  
Her head flies up, “Oh my god.” She blushes.  
Her forgetting would be cute if she wasn’t sick.  
I open her suitcase, and wish I had more time to look through it. It’s perfectly organized; she’s got more dance shoes than actual shoes. It would make me laugh in a different situation; this leg of the tour is nearly three weeks long, and the girl has one pair of running shoes, one pair of sneakers, and four pairs of different ballet shoes.  
I toss her leggings to her, taking the sneakers out.  
“Turn around.” She tries to command.  
I arch an eyebrow at her, “I’m afraid you’re going to tip off the bed.”  
She groans, but doesn’t repeat her request. I study the wall above her head.  
“Shoes?” She requests when she’s dressed.  
I sit on the floor beneath her, pulling them on over her fuzzy socks. When I’m done she meets my eyes, “I need to brush my teeth.”  
I grimace but try to hide it.  
When she tries to stand, her knees give out. It’s disorienting to see her so weak. Eli’s usually all power and spring. I get an arm around her waist, and make our way to the bathroom. When she grips the counter I let go. She brushes her teeth while I check the shower to make sure she hasn’t left anything.  
She spits, meeting my eyes in the mirror, anguished, “We have to get on the bus.”  
“I’m sorry.” I take her toothbrush to zip up in her suitcase, and snag her phone and charger from the end table.  
Eli’s leaning in the bathroom doorway when I finish, but she’s on another planet.  
“Okay?”  
She snaps out of it, “Yes. Sorry.”  
“Don’t do that.” I chastise her, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear and leaving my hand on her cheek to check her temperature, still way too warm. “Being sick isn’t something you should apologize for.”  
“We should get downstairs.” She looks around the room, still lost.  
“I got your stuff, don’t worry.”

We make it to the elevator, but when it jerks down, she stumbles. She fails into me, and I curl a hand around the back her head before she can pull away. She fists her hands in both sides of my shirt, dropping her head to my shoulder, “Everything hurts.”  
When the doors open she tries to pull back, but I keep my arm around her, “You aren’t going to make it without help.”  
She resigns, and I lead her into the lobby.  
I find Jack right away, anxiously bouncing on his heels, Eben and our manager holding a conversation next to him.  
They stop talking when we approach.  
Jack recovers quickest, “You look awful.”  
Eli doesn’t blink, but I contemplate smacking him.  
“Feel that way too, Jack, thank you.”  
I still want to smack him.  
“You’re sick?” Eben asks at the same time Dave asks, “Do you need to go to the hospital?”  
Eli wiggles out of my arm, and strides towards the bus. “I’m fine. Let’s go.” I’m already a step behind her with our luggage, and they must decide not to question it because they follow us out of the lobby too.  
Eli pauses at the bus stairs.  
I place hand on her back, “Gotcha.”  
When Eli gets up the steps, the rest of the guys notice we’ve made it, breaking into applause. Until they take her in, “Whoa. You look terrible.” Zach says, and I have to remind myself again that hitting isn’t a good way to deal with these big mouths.  
How any of them have ever gotten a girl to speak to them for more than a minute is beyond me.  
“She’s sick.” I growl. She waves a hand behind herself to pat at my chest, connecting entirely by chance. “Do you want to get in your bunk?”  
“Yup.”  
I ignore the guys and follow her to the bunks. It occurs to both of us when we get there that she can’t do her usual leap into hers. I open the curtain to mine instead. She doesn’t question me before crawling in. I toss our bags away, then move to take her shoes off. I’m working to unlace the second one when the bus starts moving. She moans, a tiny sad sound.  
“Do you want a bucket?” Jack startles me. He’s standing directly behind me, but I hadn’t heard him follow us back here.  
“Nothing else in there.” Eli answers.  
Jack grimaces, “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”  
She nods without opening her eyes, I ignore Jack and move her legs to free the blanket, then pull it over her. She doesn’t move except to whisper, “Thank you.”  
“Anything.” I whisper back, too honestly, but I think she’s already out.  
When I join the guys in the kitchenette, Daniel asks, “Is she okay?”  
I can only shrug.  
Jack takes mercy on me again, and changes the subject.

I check on her obsessively.  
Thirty minutes, then an hour, then almost two.  
I make my way back to the bunks for a fourth time, and just to look at her.  
The sound of the guys chatter and the road make a kind of peaceful white noise.  
Eli seems fragile in my bed. She’s so many contradictions.

Eli feels like everything at once, and lately, when I look at her I want to take her apart.  
At the moment though, I want to hold her together.

After a few minutes, she pushes further into the bunk, lifting the blanket. She doesn’t ask, and I don’t either before climbing in with her.  
We’re both too tall for this to be comfortable. Her hair tickles my nose, her skin is too warm, and I could really use a shower, but my arm settles over her waist, her hand securing it, and I couldn’t think of a single place I’d rather be.

Later we’ll wake up a little sticky, sweaty from body heat and too many layers, but her fever will have broken. Eli will kick me out of bed, then follow after me, all her joints snapping like pop rocks.  
She’ll down two bottles of water and when we reach the venue, she’ll emerge from the bathroom showered and looking perfectly put together, like nothing happened. Proving she’s ten times stronger than the rest of us.

 

For now, I embrace her, and when she stops fidgeting, I follow her right back to sleep.


	9. I Do Too

It’s been days since the morning Eli got sick, and we cuddled on the bus.  
I know she’s not fragile, but I’m still treating her like she’s glass. The boys are even worse. They’ve taken to running with us, so now I never get her alone.  
It’s not just the constant chaperoning in the mornings either, I’ve asked her to lunch twice thinking we were far enough away from the guys, only to have at least one of them spring up out of thin air to join us.  
It occurs to me this is on purpose, after Eli mentions there’s a French place in the city she’s been meaning to try, and suddenly Corbyn appears. When it’s decided he and Christina, and ‘Oh, you too, Jonah’ are going there tonight with Eli, I finally clue in.  
I’m not exactly complaining, but Corbyn has never been the double-date type.

“Is it about me or her?” I ask him, as we unload luggage in a hotel room.  
Corbyn tries to play dumb. He does a terrible job.  
“Seriously, bro? I haven’t been able to get a minute alone with Eli in days.”  
He levels with me, “Since you were alone in her hotel room then slept together in your bunk?”  
I blink. “She was sick.”  
“You haven’t told any of us what’s going on there, not really, and then you were all over her.” He starts digging through his suitcase, “What were we supposed to do?”  
“Corbyn, I’m nineteen.”  
He looks up, “It’s not even about that, dude. You know I’m on your side.”  
I nod. He made that clear weeks ago. “I don’t understand what you’re doing here.”  
“Eli’s great.” He pulls his shirt over his head, “I like her. We all do, not like you do, but…” He takes a new shirt from his suitcase, “There’s a lot going on there.”  
“She’s my friend.” I tell him, and it’s the truth. It’s not everything I want with her, but it’s what I have right now.  
“Well, she’s our friend too.” He shrugs the new shirt on. It looks the same as the one he had been wearing, “Does it really bother you that much?”  
“I mean…” I tap my foot, “Not really but…”  
“Okay, good. Let’s go.” Corbyn cuts me off, his phone lighting up with a text message. This isn’t the end of this conversation, but for now I let it go.

He hustles me down into the lobby where Christina and Eli are waiting.  
They’re sitting close together on a sofa, Christina telling a story with her hands flying.  
Eli laughs at something Christina’s said, tilting her head back. She’s got her hair down, and the contrast between Eli’s white blonde and Christina’s dark brown curls is art.  
I think Eli might even have makeup on.  
Christina sees us and leaps off the sofa, running towards Corbyn. He sweeps her off her feet to kiss her, and his whole being relaxes.  
Eli stands, and I can’t look away from her.  
She’s wearing jeans, and some kind of short top. There’s several inches of exposed skin.  
I approach her, “Hey gorgeous.” It’s out of my mouth before I can moderate. I was going for ‘Hey Eli, you look gorgeous’, but she’s made me stupid.  
She’s never dressed like this around me.  
Eli blushes, “Hi Jonah.”

Corbyn lets go of Christina, “Let’s get this show on the road, huh?”

The restaurant Eli picked is nice, and we’re all underdressed.  
It’s dark, and full of cushions and candles.

As we’re lead to a table, Christina beams at Corbyn, and he wears the dumbest smile. They’re fucking adorable.

When the server comes for our drink order, he gets to Eli last and she orders in french. Corbyn’s the only one surprised, “You speak French too?”  
“All the romance languages, right?” Christina leans forward on her elbows.  
“Spanish, French, and Italian. But meu català és merda. My Portuguese isn’t much better.”  
“And Japanese?” I add. She and Milo impressed me, even if their conversation was stilted.  
She shrugs, “That was always Milo’s elective.”  
“That’s insane.” Corbyn answers. “You didn’t go to school for that though.”  
“No.” Eli unfolds her napkin, “Bachelor of Fine Arts in Dance, and Artist Degree in Piano.”  
“You have a degree in piano from Juilliard.” Corbyn says, strained.  
Eli shrugs, “Ballet is always taught with piano. I’ve been a little bit in love with it as long as I can remember. I was four when my grandfather put me in lessons.”  
I just laugh. Of course she plays piano. Eli’s an extremely talented dancer, business owner, pianist polyglot. As if she couldn’t get more intimidating.

Our server comes back then with drinks, and I’m not exactly sure what I order for dinner, but Eli didn’t stop me, so it’s probably not too weird.  
“You’re still doing the charity ballet here in December, right?” Christina asks Eli.  
“Of course. I’ll get you enough passes for your roommates.”  
“Oh, that would be great. I didn’t even think about that! They’d love it though… All those costumes.” She widens her eyes, exaggerated excitement.  
“What ballet?” Corbyn asks.  
“The Nutcracker, right?” Christina answers for Eli.  
“Yes.” Eli plays with her straw. “It was really important when we opened Attitude that at least half of our students came on scholarship. At Christmas we do a fundraising performance.”  
“You don’t get paid for half of your students?” Corbyn raises his eyebrows.  
“It was over sixty percent last quarter.”  
“That’s insane. How is that a viable business model? Is the rate higher for the other kids?” Corbyn pushes.  
“We’ve never been overly concerned about the bottom line.” Eli shrugs, “I’m… not great at math, to be honest. Milo’s only slightly better. We gave our CFO ten percent of the company to keep us in the black. But the waitlist was six months for an audition last time I checked. I think our price must be fair.” She takes a sip of her water, “Attitude requires a kind of crazy commitment. The dancers like Milo was, our scholars, they take the opportunity and give us everything. It’s a great return on investment, because we’re competitive, so they make everyone better.”  
“Not that business talk isn’t fascinating,” Christina rolls her eyes, “But back to the costumes. Are you going to be the fairy again?”  
“Every year until Milo decides otherwise.”  
“You should see her in that outfit.” Christina looks at me, “She’s like a literal angel.”  
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Eli mutters.  
“I wish I had taken dance.” Christina sighs. She and Corbyn fall into a discussion about the pros of track over dance, but I turn to Eli, “What’s the fairy outfit?”  
“You’ve never seen the nutcracker?” Eli looks confused.  
“Maybe as a kid?” I scratch my chin.  
“I’m the Sugar Plum Fairy, it’s the all white solo piece usually.”  
I try to picture it, Eli in a white tutu and leotard. It suits her in my head. “Why does everyone do the nutcracker anyway?”  
“It’s a crowd pleaser, and it’s easy to do as a company. The pieces get more difficult with age. The first time I got cast as Clara, I didn’t sleep for two days.”  
“Is that the little girl?”  
Eli nods, “I wasn’t ever the type to doubt I was good, but until I got that part it felt like so much work for no recognition.” She bites her lip, “You had to have something like that too. When did you know other people thought you were good?”  
“My dad’s a musician. There was always music around, and I was always obsessed.” I try to remember, “I think I knew my parents thought I was good, and my siblings, but it wasn’t really until YouNow took off that I thought I was really good enough.”  
“Dance is such a different world.”  
“How?”  
“Milo and I, we would have had careers without YouTube. Different jobs, but we would still be dancing even if we never got famous.”  
“You would be dancing with a company. Did doing YouTube stop you? Like from dancing professionally?”  
“Ah, no.” She picks up her glass, “We opened Attitude studios when we were still in college, and decided not to audition after that. It was a decision we made, not one made for us. We couldn’t do both, but we could have joined companies instead at one point.”  
That makes sense. “Your company needs subscribers, but dancers don’t.”  
“Nope.” She smiles, “Instagram followers are kind of irrelevant in ballet.”  
“Must be nice.” I wink at her, half-joking.  
“At least there’s more money in music.” She winks back. This girl.

Eli and Christina fall into conversation then that dominates the rest of dinner, marketing strategies, brand endorsements, and Christina’s class schedule for the fall.

When I first found out they were friends, I thought they were too different. Christina’s brand is beauty and Eli hardly ever wears anything but sweats, but they’re a similar sort of intense, driven in a way I don’t know many people to be.

After dinner, we end up playing truth or dare in Jack’s room.  
He’s managed to convince Eli and Christina, but everyone else in the crew knows better than to join in. We get intense, this has been our band bonding game for months.

We’ve had to initiate new rules for safety; nothing causing lasting damage of any kind, and no physical dares involving a unwilling second person. After Jack goes over this with the girls, they situate themselves into our circle. Eli across from me, and Christina next to Corbyn.

“Zach.” Jack gets his attention. It’s his turn to start.  
Zach blinks, then turns on Daniel. “Truth or Dare, Daniel?”  
“Truth.”  
“What’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said?” Zach smirks. Daniel blushes. He’s not as goody-goody as he can act, but he is chivalric; this is an expensive question for him in front of the girls.  
“I told someone they were talentless.”  
Christina laughs, “You’re too nice. I told a cat-caller on the street this morning to fuck off.” Corbyn beams.  
Eli reaches out to high five Christina, and I can’t help but laugh too. “Yeah, I’ve said meaner to robo-callers.”  
“I’m not good at this game!” Daniel protests, “Jonah, truth or dare?”  
“Dare.”  
“Go wash your mouth out with soap.” Daniel sneers playfully, clearly thrilled with his idea, “Obviously, it’s dirty.”  
“That’s disgusting.”  
“Is that even safe?” Zach asks.  
“Didn’t your parents do that to you?” Jack quirks an eyebrow.  
“No!” Zach kicks him. “My parents love me!”  
“Ha,” Jack huffs, “Mine loved me enough to try to clean my mouth up.”

“Shut up. I’m going.” I stand up, and leave the bathroom door open. Daniel leaps up to watch, Corbyn stumbling after him, crowding the doorway. I catch a glimpse of Eli in the mirror, covering her mouth with her hand while Christina giggles.  
I place the bar of soap against my tongue for a second, then rinse my mouth in the faucet until it’s not as terrible. It’s still gross.  
I shove at Daniel as I walk back, then look to Corbyn, “Truth or dare?”  
“Dare.”  
“Take off someone’s sock off with your teeth.”  
He shrugs. Corbyn’s unsurprisingly hard to embarrass. He grabs one of Christina’s feet while she shrieks, “Hey! I didn’t agree to this.”  
“Please, baby?”  
Corbyn bats his eyelashes at her, until she shakes her head, “Fine.”  
He laughs and takes her boot off. It takes him three tries to actually get her sock off, growling ridiculously the whole time. The whole room is in tears by the time he actually accomplishes it. He gives it back to her dramatically.  
Christina sighs, “My hero.”  
Corbyn turns on Jack, “Truth or dare?”  
“Truth.”  
“Did you like the pain getting a tattoo?” Corbyn seems genuinely curious, but we all know he’s got a dirty mind, and he says it with a wicked undertone.  
Jack rolls his eyes, “Yes, it’s a high.” He blushes a little, quickly looking towards Eli and Christina.  
It’s sort of a cop out answer, but Corbyn lets him slide. Jack considers the whole circle before deciding on his victim, “Eli?”  
She tips her head towards him, “Jack.”  
“Truth or dare?”  
“Dare.” I’m glad she didn’t pick truth. Jack comes up with bizarrely personal questions.  
“Show me your tattoos.” The glint in his eyes dangerous.  
I didn’t even know she had tattoos until she showed that one to him late at night.

Eli’s mouth tugs to the side, but she crawls across the circle to Jack, sitting back on her heels maybe a foot in from of him. Jack’s sat next to me, so she’s close to me too, “This is what I get for helping you with yours.”  
“Also, curiosity,” Jack thumbs towards himself.  
Eli smirks, then takes her shirt over her head, using that cross armed sexy move girls do.  
I don’t think I’m the only one who makes a noise. Christina might whistle. Eli ignores us all, and drops her shirt in her lap, holding her arms towards Jack.  
She’s wearing some kind of lacy thing, she’s not topless, but it’s a lot. I might have stopped breathing. Her twisting her arms brings me out of it. Inked on the inside of her right forearm is a tiny series of dots and dashes.  
“Morse code?” I guess.  
“Penn and Merritt.” She smiles, “Penn’s matches, but with my name.”  
That’s really sweet.  
She twists her other arm, revealing the inked circle inside her left forearm. It’s a tiny spiral of words circling in on itself, ‘as long as you're dancing, you can break the rules’. She doesn’t explain that one, but I know it’s the one she’s shown Jack before, her mother’s handwriting. It reminds me of something she told me months ago.  
Eli lifts her right arm, and uses her other hand to move the lace, revealing more of her side. There’s a crescent moon tattooed there. It covers a decent amount of her ribcage, and it’s beautiful. The whole tattoo is geometric patterns and delicate black lines over her keyboard ribs. She’s so boney, it had to hurt like hell.  
Zach nearly falls into my lap trying to see, his eyes the size of dinner plates. Daniel across the circle is trying very hard to be polite and not stare.  
Jack reaches for her to get a better look, but she knocks his hand down before I can.  
“What’s that one mean?” He frowns.  
She puts her top back on and goes back to her spot on the other side of the circle, “The dare was to show you, not tell you. Zach?”  
He coughs out something that resembles a yes.  
“Truth or dare?” She continues, the game moves on but I dream about the moon that night.  
 

 

 

“Where’s Eli?” I ask in the sprinter the next morning. We’re on our way to rehearsals in Attitude’s NYC studio today, but Eli isn’t with us.  
“Already on location.” Manager Dave answers, shaking his head. That’s crazy, because it’s still dark outside.

“You’re going to the fifth floor.” Dave tells us when we arrive, “Think you can manage?”  
“Think so.” I mutter, and the rest of the guys make vague noises of agreement.  
We exit the elevator to an open reception area, full of plants and chairs. Jayden, Eli’s friend from the show her ex came to, is sitting behind the front desk.  
“Good morning.” He calls, pointing across the room, “Eli said you’d want coffee.”  
I could weep with gratitude, “Thank you.” I cross the room to the beverage cart he’d pointed at, and fill up a cup.  
“They should be done soon.” Jayden informs us.  
“They?” Jack asks, looking around the room.  
“Eli and Milo are working.” Jayden directs us to the left, “You’re welcome to watch.”  
With coffee in hand, I walk the direction he indicated, finding studios like the ones in LA. Glass into the chair lined hallway, dark rooms on either side. The studio at the end of the hall is lit up though, with Milo and Eli using it.  
They absolutely fly through the space. I’ve spent more time than I’d ever admit watching their videos now that I know they exist, but seeing this in person is something else. They’re mind-blowing.  
They mirror each other, and move in ways that don’t seem physically possible. Milo throws Eli alarming heights into the air, and catches her effortlessly. As the song comes to an end I realized they’re discussing something, heatedly.  
Milo’s voice rises as the song stops, “I give a fuck, okay? I give a lot of fucks, actually. I’m a feelings prostitute.” Daniel chokes next to me, and Corbyn coughs to keep from laughing.  
“Your band is here!” Jayden calls, loudly from further down the hall.  
Eli yelps something I couldn’t understand, and Milo grins as he opens the door for us, “Morning, boys.”  
He’s wearing a pair of black tights and nothing else. I don’t think I’ve ever been that confident, but Milo manages it. Eli grabs a sweatshirt from a chair in the corner, covering up her leotard.  
“Alright, guys. Take a look at the stage,” She gestures towards the taped outline on the floor, “Milo’s just leaving.”  
“What were you fighting about?” Zach can’t help himself. Always asking the questions I won’t.  
Eli looks at Milo, and he points a finger at her, accusatory, “Well?”  
She grabs his wrist to pull him in, “That wasn’t a fight.”  
“Nope.” Milo agrees.  
“Y a mí también me importa, ya sabes lo que hago. es solo complicado.” Eli ignores us.  
Milo shakes his head, laughing, “Luego, Elijah.”  
Eli laughs too, then shoves him out of the room.  
“Let’s get to work.” She claps her hands, and whatever that was about is forgotten.

 

Milo returns hours later when we’ve collapsed together at the front of the room after Eli’s announced we can be done for the day. He’s carrying a big duffle bag, and Jayden comes in the room after him handing out waters, so he’s my new favorite.  
“Good class, 'Lo?” Eli asks, messing with the stereo system.  
Milo pulls out a pair of pointe shoes from the bag and tosses them to her, “Always, mi alma.”  
She takes a seat next to me to pull off her sneakers and socks. Her feet are torn up.  
“Doesn’t that hurt?”  
“I think I lost feeling in my feet at thirteen and never got it back,” Eli grins, “I used to be ticklish.”

Her feet remind me of the cracked bloody callouses I had to build for guitar. Art demands sacrifice, my dad always tells me. Mine might have abused my hands, hers destroys her feet, but it feels like in return we get who we are.

Eli stands up and starts lifting herself up and down on her toes.  
“Do they match?” Jack asks, and I look his direction.  
He’s watching Milo, who’s bent down setting up a camera, “Hm?”  
“Your tattoos.” Jack says, squinting. “Eli’s got the moon and you’ve got the sun.”  
“Oh, yeah.” Milo walks to Eli and shows us his side, “Jay drew them.”  
Eli moves her sweatshirt out of the way, revealing hers. Milo’s tattoo doesn’t look as delicate as hers does, even though they’re the same style. They look cool together.  
Jayden clears his throat, “The weirdest birthday gift I’ve ever been asked for.”  
“Eso no es cierto.” Milo grins.  
Eli slaps a hand over his mouth, “Nope! There is a child present. Both of those stories are inappropriate. Talk about anything else.” She pleads.  
“That’s why they’re such good stories…”  
“An actual child!”  
“Hey!” Zach cottons on, protesting, “I’m not a baby!”

For some reason this makes the three of them crack up. They stop laughing when Milo pulls Eli’s sweatshirt off. She turns back to us, “You’re free to go.”  
“You’re filming for your channel, right?” Jack asks, and Milo nods. “I wanna watch, if it’s all the same to you.”  
“Sure.” Eli shrugs, “Anyone else?”  
“We’ll stay.” I answer, and she smiles at me.  
“We’re doing a group piece. You can meet some of our kids.”  
There’s a commotion in the hallway then and Jayden smirks, “Hablar de los demonios.”  
Milo rolls his eyes as the door is opened and a flood of teenagers pours in. They’re younger than I am, and they all want a piece of Eli. They hug her, fighting for attention. Eli introduces us, and when a few of the girls get excited, she gets them back to work with effortless authority.  
“Girls!” She claps, “Let’s get started please.” The boys in the group are already spread out in the room.  
They listen to her, and in minutes the group is following Milo and Eli through stretches while Jayden finishes setting up the cameras. It feels very practiced, I imagine this is what it was like before Eli left.  
“You really don’t have to stay,” Eli says, when they’re finished warming up, “This part takes a while.”  
“We’re staying.” Jack and I tell her at the same time, then handshake over our jinx.  
Eli shrugs, then moves back into the room.

  
Milo and Eli start by doing the entire routine by themselves, then cycling through groups of two students at a time, each a different make up. They let boys dance with boys and girls dance with girls, but in the choreography it works. Then they do the piece altogether, students flinging themselves into and out of the frame. I know it’s going to look insane in the video.

When they’ve finished filming, Eli embraces her students, checking up on them, asking after their families, grades, and other personal things. It’s clear she’s close to them. A few girls ask for pictures with us, and Eli reminds them not to tag the studio. I don’t know why they’re keeping the band separate from Attitude, but I don’t get to ask before Eli and Milo are steering us into the lobby and disappearing to change. Jayden’s directed them to take us to lunch before we have to head to tonight’s venue.  
We’re shuffling around the space, looking at the details I was too tired to notice this morning, while Jayden plugs cameras into the computer behind the desk.  
“Here.” He says, pulling a box out from under the desk and placing it on the coffee table.  
“What’s this?” I ask as he pulls the lid off.  
“Their Polaroid collection. You guys should look through them.” He smirks at me, “There’s some crazy ones of Eli.”  
Jayden’s right. Most of these are Milo and Eli doing crazy dance poses. Some of them seem seriously dangerous, taken on top of mountains, the sides of cliffs, and in all different cities. They’re striking.

I’m holding a photo of Eli, standing en pointe on glass above a city I couldn’t name, when she walks up to me, “That’s Milo’s favorite.”  
“What’s my favorite?” Milo asks, hooking his chin over her shoulder.  
“El techo de cristal en Paris.” She takes the picture from me and tosses it back in the box. “It was like pulling teeth to get you out there with me.”  
Milo laughs, “Because I’m not crazy, Elijah.”  
She shakes her head, her hair hitting Milo making him crinkle his nose, “Let’s go.”

“Why don’t more people call you Elijah?” I ask her when we’ve gotten lunch, seven people crowded around a four top.  
“It’s her dad. He hates it.” Milo answers.  
“Why though? I think it’s cool.” Corbyn give me a swift kick to the shin, but I ignore him.  
Eli swallows, “The first Elijah was my mom’s best friend. He overdosed before I was born. My dad thought that made him a terrible namesake.”  
“Well…” Jack shrugs.  
“I could see his point.” Daniel says.  
“We think he was depressed.” Milo explains.  
“Is that why he…?” I let the question linger.  
Eli nods, “Self-medication. That’s what killed my mother too.”  
The guys make sounds of consolation, Zach says, “I’m sorry”, and I place a hand on her knee. Milo leans his head against hers.  
“I look exactly like her. My dad used to joke he’d think she’d just cloned herself, except for my smile.” Eli looks to me, “After she died, I started to think it was less about his dimples and more about her depression.”

I try to conjure an image of Eli, without her dimples or disposition.  
Eli can be serious, especially when she’s working, but she’s got the quickest smile when she’s comfortable, especially when she’s with Milo. It’s hard to imagine someone so different.

"Anyway, my dad always called me Baby, so everyone else did too when I was little. Only my grandparents and Milo ever call me Elijah. I like Eli best."  

 I do too. 

That much I manage to keep to myself. 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Logical Conclusion

I haven’t been able to corner the guys about the band-imposed escorting, so Jack and Daniel both stumble into the elevator behind me to go running in the morning.  
From the lobby, I spot Eli leaning against a wall outside. She catches my eyes, tilting her head towards a group of girls standing on the other side of the steps. She flashes her hand at us twice, signaling ten minutes.  
Daniel is the appropriate level of enthusiastic to see them, so Jack and I work up to the same. It helps they’re sweet, and brought coffee. Eli interrupts after a while, using her instructor voice, “Ladies, you are so awesome for being here.”  
She claps, the sharp loud noise getting the attention of the girls that weren’t listening, “The boys need to get moving now. Would you like to join their warmup before they go? Then you can meet up with the whole band at your radio station later.”  
This isn’t a request, the tone of her voice is a command, but she gets several happy ‘yes’s anyway.  
“Great! You’re going to need a little space.” Eli teases, looking at the girl under Jack’s arm. She giggles but moves, everyone spreading out.  
The routine stretching usually takes five minutes takes closer to fifteen with this crowd. Eli pays attention to the girls, correcting them, showing them how to be safe. She’s relentlessly positive and encouraging. I can tell the girls are enamored with her.  
“That was perfect! Thank you so much for coming out for the boys! They’ll see you very soon.” Eli tells them, when we’re warm and bouncing on the balls of our feet. She gives them a smile, directing us up the street.  
Daniel falls into step next to her, Jack and I behind them. The girls call out goodbyes, but no one tries to run us down. It might be the smoothest exit we’ve ever made.

“You’re a teenage girl whisperer.” Daniel looks at her once we turn the corner.  
“I was a teenage girl, not that long ago. We’re going for a seven-thirty pace.” We all groan.  
“We’ve got to make up time from the girl whispering.” Eli dimples, and I smile back helplessly as always. At least this city seems pretty flat.  
 

 

“I’m definitely a Gryffindor.” Daniel insists. We’re in a sprinter, leaving yet another the radio station.  
“I don’t know, man.” Jack shakes his head.  
“I’d say Hufflepuff.” Eli adds.  
I turn around to look at her, “You like Harry Potter?”  
“Who doesn’t? I’ve read the books five times.”  
“Really?”  
She nods, and I’m relieved. Not that it would change my feelings now, if she didn’t like Harry Potter, but I’ve always thought of that as a deal breaker.  
“Which house are you?” She asks me.  
“Gryffindor.”  
“I would’ve guessed that, but you could go Hufflepuff too.”  
I raise an eyebrow.  
She waves a hand at me, “You're so loyal."  
That makes sense. “What are you?”  
“Slytherin.” Jack calls. “You’re definitely Slytherin.”  
“Milo and I both got Slytherin, then figured out the answers for Gryffindor.”  
“I think that makes you more Slytherin.” It suits her, not the bad connotations, but being cunning. She makes things happen, and that’s a good thing.  
“I think so too.” She smirks.  
“What am I?” Zach asks.  
“You’ve got to read the books, Z.” I pat his back.  
“You should, but you’re a Gryffindor.” Eli gives in to his pouting. “Corbyn’s a Ravenclaw, and Jack’s with me.”  
Corbyn starts to protest, and Jack ridiculously holds out a fist for her bump, her phone ringing with a FaceTime call as she does.

She answers, holding it in front of her, “Hey Jay.”  
“Hi Eli. Have you, by chance, been on Instagram today?” He cuts right to the point.  
“No.” Eli scrunches her nose, before going blank, “The girls from the hotel took pictures, didn’t they?”  
I didn’t think about that, but when Eli had to rescue us, she was forced to interact with them. Our fans are brilliant and committed. I’m sure they already know exactly who she is, and as good as they are to us, they aren’t always nice online. The support Christina gets is usually great, or so she tells Corbyn, but our managers’ daughters get truckloads of hate for no real reason.  
“The good news,” Jayden interrupts my train of thought, “is the first thing posted was a video.”  
“Our warm up.” Eli connects the dots.  
“Yes. You’re professional, and come off kind, but someone figured who you are an hour ago. Attitude’s page is going crazy with it.”  
“Oh, god. Jayden, I’m sorry.”  
“Not your fault. We knew that is was the eventuality, I just wanted you to hear it from us. I think we should put out a statement now.”  
She nods, “Whatever you want.”  
“I’m going to make Milo do it.” Jayden laughs.  
Eli cups her cheek, “Mira su boca.”  
“No pudeo evitar eso.”  
“You’re gross.” Eli finally smiles.  
“You’re okay?”  
“I’m okay. Let me know when it’s done?”  
Jayden must nod, because they chorus ‘love you’s and hang up.  
“So…” Jack drawls, “They found you?”  
“Seems that way.”

Zach’s already in Instagram, “Whoa. These girls are like the FBI.”  
He holds his phone up. Jayden was right, a lot of these are videos of Eli thanking the girls, or clips of her stretching and helping them. They’re well within her job description.  
Most of the comments are centered on us, the usual stuff, but a few funnier ones are about actually working out if they could go to ‘Why Don’t We’ gym. I’ll probably like a few of those later, when I’m not worried about Eli.  
I scroll down, finding more pictures of Eli. There’s airport pictures, and shots of her at shows. It’s enough to surmise she’s traveling with us.  
“Do you even have an instagram?” I look to Eli.  
“Attitude has a page. Milo, Jayden, and I have access to it. I don’t even know when the last time I logged in was…”  
I search for it, finding a verified account. They have nearly four million followers.  
“Does this mean we can tag you in stuff now?” Corbyn looks at their posts.  
“I never cared, but management thought it was best to wait until someone else put it together.”  
“You didn’t ask them to keep it quiet?” I assumed she had.  
“Nope.”  
“You don’t have your own instagram, but do you have twitter?” Daniel asks. I'm sure if she does her mentions are blowing up.  
“I don’t have my own social media. Jayden runs company accounts, but if you don’t have my phone number, I don’t want your comments.”

She gave me her number after our third rehearsal. It didn’t occur to me that it might mean anything, but I know none of the other guys have it.  
I have to bite down a smile.

 

I’m tucked into the wall at an industry party with Zach, Daniel, and Milo wondering how this is my life. Eli had shown up with Milo, promptly ditching him to mingle. I haven’t even gotten a chance to tell her hello. The number of people she knows is insane. I know hardly anyone, and the band’s been told in explicit detail if we even get close to the bar they’ll have our heads, so we’re relegated to wall flower status. I don’t know where Corbyn and Jack have gotten off too. I decide I’ll go look for them in a minute if they don’t reappear.

“So you and Eli, huh?” Zach tries for conversation.  
Milo looks unimpressed, “So me and Eli.”  
“Have you ever…?”  
“No.”  
“Really?” Zach looks supremely skeptical.  
“Nope.” Milo searches for her in the crowd. “She’s my person, but we’ve never dated.”  
“But why?” Zach presses.  
Milo makes a face, and Daniel’s eyes get wide, something occurring to him, “Jayden. He’s your partner, right? That’s why he does business stuff.”  
Daniel has a habit of doing this. He’s way more astute than he’s given credit for, always catching things the rest of us miss.  
“To be fair, Eli begged him to do that. She thought we were going to run Attitude into the ground, which might have been true… But yeah,” Milo smiles wide, “We’re getting married next summer.”  
This makes so much sense I feel ridiculous for missing it.  
“Oh, cool.” Zach nods a couple times. “Wait… Why didn't Eli just say that?”  
“She would never out me. Not that it’s a secret or something, but that’s how she is. She’ll let people think crazy things instead of telling them I’m gay.” I could have guessed that, knowing the type of person she is; she cares more for other people’s feeling than what people think of her.  
“That’s…” Daniel starts.  
“Kind of amazing.” I finish.  
“Yeah.” Milo meets my eyes in approval. “She is.”  
“So… you’ve never tried, with a girl?” Zach has to question.  
Milo smirks, “You knew wanted to kiss girls before you actually kissed one, right?”  
Zach nods.  
“I knew I wanted to kiss boys way before I got up the courage to try it.”  
“So you haven’t.” Zach concludes.  
Milo looks at me, a subtle: ‘is he always like this?’ I’m sure my face tells him: Yes, Zach’s always making it awkward. He never knows when stop talking.  
“Didn’t say that.” Milo answers him after a minute.  
“So you have?” Zach says, exasperated.  
“Yes, I’ve kissed girls. I’ve kissed Eli.”  
“But you said!”

Eli joins us then, draping her arms around Milo’s shoulders from behind,“What did you say?”  
Milo cranes his head towards her, “I’ve kissed you.”  
“He asked if the right girl could change you, didn’t he?” Eli looks to Zach, and he blushes. Zach might have a big mouth, but he knows when he sticks his foot in it.  
“You’d be the right girl.”  
Eli squeezes Milo, like he’s her teddy bear.

“Doesn’t he get jealous?” Daniel appraises them.  
“Jay?” Eli looks confused.  
Milo turns back to us, Eli still pressed against him. “No. I’d been kissing Eli for years before we got together.”  
“Mostly Snow White.”  
“The best thing about Attitude.”  
“Absolutely.”  
They dimple at each other for a minute, then Eli remembers the rest of us are here.  
“We’ve done Snow White and the Huntsman dozens of times.” She translates, “And Romeo and Juliet.”  
“A lot of ballets have genuine kissing.” Milo explains, “But Jayden doesn’t get jealous of Eli. It’s different, he knows there’s no reason to.”  
“I don’t get it.” Zach pouts.  
Milo hooks a finger in the bracelet Eli never takes off, imitating her nervous tell, winding it around, “Eli reminds me to breathe, but Jayden takes my breath away.” He drops her bracelet shrugging a little, “I like challenging. She gets me, but I need someone who gets to me.”  
“And no one gets to you like Jayden.” Eli beams, so genuinely happy for him.  
“Solo cada segundo de cada dia.”  
Eli releases Milo’s shoulders, taking his hand, “Okay. Let’s go, ‘Lo.”  
Milo nods to us, as Eli tugs him away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zach turns to Daniel.   
Daniel looks amused, but he just shakes his head.  
“Let’s go find Jack and Corbyn.” I throw my arms around their shoulders, leading them off. I look back once, to watch Eli and Milo disappear the opposite direction into the crowd.

 

Jack and Corbyn managed to find the theater in this house. It takes us fifteen minutes to find them, but they’re just laid out on massive sofas playing MarioKart.  
“Hey, bud.” Daniel sits down on Jack’s legs, “Didn’t tell us where you were going.”  
“Look at the size of this TV!” Corbyn justifies, waving his controller around.  
Zach shoves at him, “Should’ve stuck around, I got Milo to tell us about his husband.”  
“That’s nice,” Corbyn starts, then stops, lurching upwards, “What husband?”  
Zach slides into the space he’s made on the sofa, “Told you.”  
“Milo’s gay?” Jack asks.  
“Jayden’s his fiancé.” I sit down on Corbyn’s other side.  
Jack nods, “That… Actually, that makes a surprising amount of sense.”  
“I figured it out.” Daniel boasts.  
Zach rolls his eyes, “Because of my sleuthing.”  
“Why does that make sense?” I squint at Jack.  
“Dude. Guys are never just besties with girls. Never.”  
Daniel shakes his head, “That’s not true. Most of my friends are girls. My best friend is a girl.”  
“And you want her, so point proven.” Jack shoots at him.  
Daniel’s jaw falls open, but he can’t seem to find words.  
“It’s sort of true, bro.” Corbyn tries for commiseration, but ends up somewhere closer to smug.  
“Shut up.” Daniel palms his face.  
“It’s okay. Pretty sure she wants you back.” Jack tries.  
“Shut up, Jack!” Daniel smacks Jack’s thigh so hard it rings out in the room.  
“Ow!” Jack jerks his legs out from under Daniel, curling into a ball. “Shit. That hurts!”  
“Good.” Daniel grins at him with too many teeth.  
“Okay.” Zach says, “Back to my discovery.”  
“Our discovery.” Daniel corrects.  
“Our discovery.” Zach concedes, “He’s marrying a dude, but he’s kissed Eli.”  
I rub at my forehead, “I knew that already.”  
Zach looks at me, “What?”  
“I knew that, before your obnoxious twenty questions.” I look at the ceiling, “There’s videos on their channel.”  
It’s tasteful, but there’s clips from those ballets, where they kiss at the end.  
I might have been jealous, but I know how Eli feels about Milo. She’s never tried to hide it. She told me he was her best friend from the beginning, and she’d had a boyfriend when those videos were uploaded. She’s hyper-committed to everything, I know she’d never cheat. Those kisses were for art, not pleasure.  
“Really?” Corbyn looks at me. “Exactly how many of her videos have you watched?”  
I will my checks not to color, “Enough.”  
“Sure. Sure.” He nods, “Have you found the one she wears a bikini in?”  
“No?” My voice cracks a little.  
The room burst into laugher, “Your face.” Corbyn can’t stop laughing, but I understand him regardless.  
I take the controller from his hands, “Which game is this, anyway?”  
“Smooth, man.” Jack says.  
“Shut up, Jack.”  
“It was on when we got here.” Corbyn saves me, stealing the controller back, “And, I’m not finished stomping Jack yet.”  
“Next!” Zach calls.  
“You’re not stomping me!”  
“Dude, you’re in seventh place.”  
“Whatever. I’ve got this.”  
“I wonder if we can get food in here.”

They let the conversation die, moving on to video games, and I relax into my seat.

Zach looks at me across the back of the sofa, “So is there a video of Eli in a bikini?"   
Corbyn punches Zach’s shoulder, lightening quick and I hold up a hand for him. We shake while Zach wails, “What was that for?” Nobody answers him, we’re laughing too hard. Zach really doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.

 

 

We’re outside when the party finally starts to die down. I’m tired, ready to leave as soon as possible, but there’s an empty backyard here with loungers and a pool. We’ve gotten comfortable on our phones when the door opens. I look up, catching Milo sneaking out.  
He’s texting, and tips his head towards me as he passes, kicking his shoes off then sitting down to stick his feet in the pool. We’re quiet for a while, I can barely hear the noise of the party and the music still playing inside over the sounds of the night.

Eli comes out looking for us, and catches sight of Milo. She walks straight to him,“Golpear a mi padre la próxima vez que lo veas, bien? Si una persona más me llama Baby… Voy a nombrar a mi hija algo tradicional, como Anna.” I don’t understand what she’s saying, but her Spanish is bewitching. I like how it changes the shape of her mouth to speak it.  
Milo looks up at her, “Eso es muy malo. Creo que llamaré al mío Elijah.”  
Daniel sputters out a laugh. Milo and Eli look at him.  
“I ah…” He shrugs, “Know enough Spanish for that.”

The music changes then, and Milo stands, taking Eli by the wrists. He pulls her onto the grass and they start dancing, singing the words to each other.  
It’s an old ABBA song, and it would seem weird for anyone else to know all the lyrics.  
It seems natural they’d both know ‘Dancing Queen’ by heart.

I sit up to watch them better. They dance differently when they’re not preforming. They’re not any less in sync that they seem when they’re rehearsing, or in their videos, but there’s something less intense about this. They’re so breezy together.

When their song ends, Milo sends Eli spinning my direction. I place my hands on her hips to stop her when she reaches me. I smile up at her and she dimples down at me.  
“May I?”  
She nods and I stand up. We’re pressed close together for a second, then she steps back, and I follow her away from the furniture. Milo takes the opportunity to steal my seat.

I reach for her waist when we’re on the grass, and she wraps her arms around my neck.  
“Hi Gorgeous.”  
“Hi Jo.” She blushes.

I wouldn't let anyone else call me that, but I love how she makes it sound. 

We sway together for a while. Eli doesn’t try anything fancy, we’re hardly moving, but I don’t want to stop. She leans into me for the next song, and the one after that too.

 

 

‘can I take you somewhere?’  
It’s late in the day when I send her the message. We’ve been cooped up in a hotel somewhere in the midwest for hours.  
There’s a small window, when I think we could escape without my keepers (also known as bandmates) noticing my disappearance. I still haven’t figured out how to make them knock it off.  
I’m going out of my mind trying to get Eli alone.  
Eli responds immediately, ‘Yes.’  
‘meet me in the first floor stairwell in five minutes. wear your running shoes.’  
‘Okay.’

 

“Gorgeous.” I smile as she approaches me, floating down the stairs. I love how it makes her blush every time.  
“Jonah.” She dimples back, “No one else coming?”  
“I might have escaped while Jack was in the shower.”  
She narrows her eyes at me playfully, “You’re trouble.”  
“That’s not a question.” I take her hand, leading her down the last flight of stairs.  
She follows me out of the hotel, into a cab.

Eli waits until I’ve given directions to confront me again, “There aren’t going to be repercussions for this, are there?”  
“I left a note.” I might have left out where I was going and with whom, but Jack won’t think I’m kidnapped or dead when he gets out of the shower. Eli accepts my answer, looking out the window. When we get to the trailhead I pay for our ride, and climb out after her, shouldering my backpack up, “It’s only four miles. We should have enough time to get back before dark.”  
“Better get started then?” Eli looks so happy, “We used to go hiking upstate, when I lived in New York.”  
“I went all the time in Minnesota. My grandparents have a place in Colorado too. In the fall, it’s incredible.”  
“I can imagine. Florida isn’t good for hiking so New York seemed like a revelation. I bet the rockies are amazing.” She has a spring in her step, and keeps leaping over rough patches. I really like watching her climb the trail.  
“They are. It’s one of my favorite places. My brother and I tried mountain-biking there once, when we were younger.”  
Eli glances over her shoulder, “That sounds dangerous.”  
“It was.” I grin, “Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t break our legs.”  
Her laugh echoes a little, “Milo’s always getting me into things like that.”  
“Mountain-biking?”  
“Actually, no, but other ill-advised activities. Last time we were on vacation, he took me zip-lining."  
“I thought those were pretty safe.”  
“Not when they’re, like, thirty years old in the jungle of Peru.”  
I picture it, the two of them flying through the jungle.  
“What were you even doing in Peru?”  
“Graduation trip. We both get seasick, so we went to Peru. Did the things our parents told us not to and ate way too many questionable tamales and picarones.”  
“What are picarones?” I absolutely butcher the word, but Eli doesn’t seem to mind.  
“They’re like doughnuts made with sweet potato and squash, in syrup. It sounds weird, but they’re so good.”  
“I’ll talk your word on that.”  
“When you tour South America, you’ll have to try them.” She doesn’t say this like it’s even a question, she’s that confident in my career.  
“What else do I have to try?”  
“Well…” She thinks about it, “You’ll like the coffee in Central America, and in France, they do it right. But in France you have to try le chocolat chaud, it’s like hot chocolate sludge. Everyone goes on about pain au chocolat, but the drink is better.”  
She goes on about food for a while longer, entertaining me. I find it funny she’s so skinny when she is such a foodie.  
She stops suddenly, “Oh. wow.” I look past her, and see we’ve reached the top. The view is better than I anticipated. “This is incredible.” Eli walks forward to sit down on the grass.  
I copy her, “Yeah. I wasn’t sure.” I was only looking for a reason to take her somewhere.  
“I hadn’t even thought about doing something like this.”  
“Good.” I bump my shoulder against hers.  
I pull bottles of water from my backpack, and open hers before handing it over, her cold fingers brushing mine. We both drain them quickly.

Eli lies back onto the ground when she’s finished, lifting her hands to the sky, framing the clouds.

I look at her instead the view. There’s nothing soft about her; she’s all sharp angles and always looks like she knows how use them, but when I get her alone, she’s so warm to me. I love the contrast in that.  
I love her long legs and graceful arms.  
I love her dimples when she grins at me, and the cut of her hipbones.  
I love the way she feels under my palms, and the way her cold hands feel on me.  
I love how she dances, and how she thinks.  
The logical conclusion of those thoughts makes my palms sweat.

I shove our empty bottles back in my backpack, then lie down next to her.  
Eli rolls over onto her stomach, propping her elbows up to tuck her chin in her hands then she kicks her feet, crossing and uncrossing her ankles.

She catches me watching, after a minute.

Her eyes sparkle and they look like an invitation.

  
It doesn’t take anything to reach for her, tangle my fingers in her hair, and pull her into me.

As far as first kisses go, it’s okay. I’m a millimeter off, and she falls down off her elbows. I pull back an inch, “Is this okay?”  
She’s halfway on my chest and in answer she pushes into our second kiss.  
This one is extraordinary. She tastes like lemon chapstick and daydreams.  
I think I want to do this for the rest of my life.

 

 

“I don’t know how to do this.”  
Eli pulls back after we’re both breathing harder.  
“That was perfect.” I stroke her cheek with my thumb.  
She shakes her head, her eyes serious. “I like you.”  
“I like you too.”  
She chews on her lip, “I was a terrible girlfriend. With Colt, I knew if he pulled or I pushed too hard, it would fall apart." She sits up, "I’ve never dated anyone else. Not anyone I'd want to keep. I don’t know how, and...” She reaches for her bracelet, “And I don’t even know if you want that. I'm just afraid of wrecking this.”  
“I do want that. I want to date you.” I cover her hand spinning the bracelet with mine, "You don't have to be scared with me."   
“No?” It feels like a knife to the heart, the venerability she trusts me with. She's brave, handing me this precious thing.   
“No.” I lean up enough to press my nose to hers, our eyes so close everything else goes blurry, “I won’t let us mess this up.”  
“Okay.” She breaths, bumping our heads together.  
“Okay.”

I stand, and offer her my hand. Responsibility sucks, but the sun is setting, and if I’m not back soon more people than Jack are going to wonder where I am.  
We’re quiet on the hike down, Eli following me. She calls an Uber when we reach the bottom and the ride is quiet too. It’s a comfortable silence, and I like the sound of it. I know we’ve both got a lot on our minds.

I walk her back to her room when we reach the hotel.  
I don’t want to leave her yet, “So.” I stall as she opens her door.  
“So.” She leans against the frame in the doorway, “You need to get back.”  
“I know.”  
“So go.” She’s smirking.  
“Don’t want to.” I try to pout, but she laughs at me.  
“I’ll see you later.” She kisses my jaw quickly, before closing the door on me.  
I’m left staring at the empty space where she was. I don’t fist pump, but it’s a close thing.

 

 

 

 


	11. Worth It

  
The entire band is waiting in my room when I get there.  
I wish I was more surprised.  
I close the door behind myself, leaning back against it.  
We stare at each other, then Zach breaks, “So, Eli was gone too.”  
I try hard to fight back my smile, but I can feel the twitch.  
“Gone for a walk, back before dark. Don’t call the authorities.” Jack holds up my note, trying to look unimpressed.  
“Did you kiss her?” Corbyn reads me like a book.  
My head thuds back against the door.  
He snickers, “That’s a yes. Good for you, man.”  
I ignore him.  
Daniel leans forward in the desk chair, “Now would be a good time to start explaining.”  
“Yeah! What’s going on? Why haven’t you told us stuff?”  
“I helped you.” Corbyn ribs, “You owe me all the details.”  
“Let’s not go that far,” Daniel reasons, “I don’t want all of the details.”  
I grimace, “There’s not much to tell. We’ve just been hanging out.”  
Daniel looks through me, “Eli’s not that type.”  
He’s defending her to me, the girl he’s been warning me off for weeks. If this wasn’t an interrogation I might laugh. “Not like that. I wasn’t even sure she wanted me back until today.”  
“But you’ve been doing stuff?” Zach tilts his head, like a puppy.  
“Running, and I took her to the batting cages last time we were in Los Angeles.” I open my backpack to unpack, a weak excuse not to meet their eyes.  
“Why didn’t you tell us?”  
Zach’s my little brother, and I hate myself for keeping this from him, from any of them. It feels like I’ve been lying, and there’s not a good reason.  
“It feels fragile.” I settle on the truth, “She’s… She’s everything, and I have no idea what she’s doing with me.”  
“Dude.” Jack levels at me, “Everyone knew this was coming.”  
They all nod.  
“We just thought you’d say something sooner.” Daniel admits.  
“It’s, like, obvious you’re in love with her.” Zach points out.  
I groan. “Can you not put it that way?”  
“She looks at you like you’re a meal.” Jack teases.  
“I still don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.” Daniel leans back.  
“Better than a snack, right?” Zach sticks his tongue out.  
I toss an empty water bottle at him.  
“What?!”  
“I like her for more than her looks.”  
Jack smirks, “Doesn’t hurt that she looks exactly like Elle Fanning, though, does it?”  
I throw the other one at him.  
“Just saying!”  
“You’ve seen Maleficent too many times, bro.” Corbyn rolls his eyes.  
“Because I love my sisters.”  
“Like I don’t?”  
“Well…”  
Corbyn tackles him, Daniel declares I have to buy apology pizza, and this is how I know they forgive me.

 

 

 

In unspoken agreement, Eli and I don’t act differently while we’re traveling, but knowing what it feels like to kiss her, and not being able to act on it, kills a small part of me.

With the boys, things remain the same. Eli’s their friend too, and that hasn’t changed. They mess with her, and she messes with them right back.  
They promised not to make it weird, and they do alright. At least, until we get a night off, then they trip over themselves trying to be their idea of helpful.  
We’re at the movies, to watch some new horror film, and they decide to play musical chairs until Eli and I end up seated together at the end of the row.

Eli catches on quickly, “You told them?”  
I watch her face, looking for a hint of how she feels about this. She isn’t giving anything away. “Corbyn guessed.”  
“Milo knows.” I wonder if she told him, or if he guessed too, before deciding she would never have kept any of this from him.  
She sinks down in her chair as the previews start. “Do you even like scary movies?”  
“No.” I sort of hate them.  
Eli bites her lip, then stands up as the theater goes dark. She holds out her hand, and I take it. I don’t know what we’re doing, but there’s almost nothing I wouldn’t do with her.  
“Where are you going?” Jack hisses, but I ignore him, following Eli out.  
She laughs, when we make it outside, “I can’t sit through movies.”  
“Is that a dance thing?”  
“No.” She smirks, “I just get bored. Come on.”  
I’m still holding her hand, when she hails us a cab.

  
Eli takes me back to the hotel, then up to the roof. There’s not a marked door, but she pushes through anyway.  
The view from up here is amazing. It’s crazy to me that all cities are like this, not just New York. When I make that remark to her, she tells me simply, “Anything with enough distance is beautiful.”

  
We’re quiet for a while, standing together, watching the lights change.  
“What do you do, when you disappear from our hotels?”  
It’s been bothering me for weeks, since I realized she hardly ever answers her door if we’re not scheduled to go somewhere. If we’re in a hotel, she’s gone. She was gone all afternoon, I had to call her in order to invite her to the theater and dinner earlier.  
Eli looks startled. “I didn’t know you noticed. I audit classes.”  
“The guys just think you go to bed, but I know you don’t nap.”  
“No. I’ve toured with my dad, so your management asked me to come with you, but the Attitude approved reason I’m traveling is for poaching.”  
“Poaching?” I thought that was only for eggs or animals.  
She shakes her head, “It’s not quiet that bad, but Milo calls it that. The classes I take, if I like the instructor, we offer them a job audition. We’re still building the Los Angeles team, because Milo and I can’t teach most of the classes, we work with every student, but…”  
“You have to delegate something.”  
She nods. “It’s impossible otherwise.”  
“So you’re trying to hire teachers here?”  
“Not exactly. Anyone I think could be a good fit will come to our studio, and I’ll audition them. If I still like them, then we’ll hire them.”  
“Is that hard? Finding a good fit?”  
“Yes.” She sighs, “Milo and I… We’re difficult. We ask the impossible of our students, and I know what dancing does to your psyche.” She looks away from me, “Ballet requires standing in front of a mirror, to pick every bit of yourself apart, along with your peers and superiors. It’s challenging, grueling somedays. So you have to believe, firmly believe, that you’re worth improving, then still strive for the insane things we ask for. It takes a special dancer to push others towards that.”  
It goes without saying, she’s that special. Her students adore her, and even in her criticism, they absolutely respect her. I respect her.  
“How do you know if someone can do that?”  
“It doesn’t take long in a class to tell if an instructor values all of their students, or not. Dance is demanding, to improve, you need to know that the person offering you corrections, they’re doing it because they know you can do better.”  
“You feel like that.” I confess, “From the beginning, even when I failed, I never felt like you were judging me.”  
She meets my eyes, “I always knew you could do it.”  
Eli dimples at me, and I smile back.

“So how many teachers have you managed to steal?”  
“No enough. I think potentially four. We need at least ten. We bring in choreographers, but…”  
“You’ve got another week.” I tuck her hair back behind her ear, it’s been pulled from her braid by the wind.  
“Three more audits.” She agrees. “I’m ready to be home though.”  
“Me too.” I’ll miss this, having her tied to my schedule, but we’ll have rehearsals, and I miss sleeping in a real bed.

“Milo bought me a piano.”

“What?” I didn’t catch the subject shift.

She ducks her head, “Milo bought me a piano, for the new Studio. It’s ridiculous, and perfect. You should come play it sometime.”  
I grin, closed mouth. This girl is all grace, but she’s so clumsy with this. It makes me unspeakably happy. “I would love to come play your ridiculous piano with you.” I’d take any excuse to spent time with her.  
“Good.” She nods once.  
“And you’ll let me take you out.”  
This surprises her, “Um…”  
“On a real date.” I continue, “Dinner alone, somewhere I have to make a reservation.”  
“I…” She hesitates.  
“I really want to take you out to dinner, Gorgeous.” I smirk, and she blushes, all the way to her ears. “Can I?”  
“Yes. I’d like that too.”  
“Good.” I echo her.

She lays her head on my shoulder, and I keep smiling. We have plans. Things we’re going to do together, the two of us, after the traveling is over.  
This isn’t going to end with the tour.

 

 

 

Eli calls a quarter past eight on our third morning back in Los Angeles. It’s a fluke that I’m awake, but I’m glad I can answer.  
“Good morning, Eli.”  
“Hi, Jonah.”

We’re both quiet for a minute, but I don’t mind waiting for her. Eli doesn’t do things without purpose.

“Jayden and Milo are in town, and I thought maybe you could come over this afternoon, if you aren’t too busy.” She rushes out, terrifically awkward, definitely worth waiting for.  
“Yes.” I don’t even consider.  
“Okay.” She exhales.  
“I think I should be able to get away around four.”  
“That’s perfect.”  
“Good.”  
“I’ll text you the address.”  
“Okay.”

  
I end up outside her gate at almost five. There’s a fence around the property at the address she gave me, and I can’t tell if this is the right place, until after I press in the code.  
As the gate opens, I take in the yard and house. It’s Spanish style, terra-cotta, and smaller than the fence would indicate.  
Eli opens the door before I can knock. She wraps her arms around around my neck, and I hug her back instantly. I’ve missed her.  
When she pulls back, I notice her outfit. She’s wearing a black leotard, and nothing else. I lose every coherent thought.  
“Milo and I are working, but we’re going to get dinner soon, if you’re hungry?”  
I nod, still too distracted for words.  
Eli smiles.  
I notice more of the house as she leads me to the living room. In the hallway behind the door, there’s a coatrack, and shoes pilled under a bench. There’s photographs on the walls, mostly Eli and her brothers, and plants in every corner. It reminds of her studio lobby in New York.  
It feels clean, but it’s definitely lived-in. I like that, our compound feels sterile still. More like a place to sleep than a home some nights.  
In the living room, Milo’s stretching on the floor, all of the furniture clearly shoved out of the way, lining the walls. The living room opens to the kitchen, where Jayden’s sitting at the dinning table, a laptop and papers scattered everywhere. The space is big, open and inviting.  
Milo springs up when we walk in, coming to bro-hug me. He’s only wearing sweatpants.  
I imagine a joke about being allergic to shirts, but we’re not that comfortable yet.  
“Glad you could make it, man.” Milo grins.  
Jayden shoves his chair back. “Nice to see you again.” I shake his hand, and he looks Eli and Milo over, “You guys finish up. I’ll give Jonah the tour.”  
Eli starts to shake her head, but Milo pulls her away. “Gracias!”  
“Se bueno, por favor.” Eli pleads towards Jayden as she moves back with Milo.  
Jayden ignores them, and directs me down the hall. He points out Eli’s room through the open door, the bed dominating the space, haphazardly made with white bedding and tons of pillows. The only other furniture in the room is a big chair, draped with ballet shoes and sweaters. There’s a door open to what might be a master bath, but Jayden moves on without actually entering.  
He points out the guest room, a suitcase sitting open at the foot of the bed, clearly his and Milo’s.  
The last room in this hall is a studio. After Jayden turns the lights on, I’m drawn inside by the guitars and awards lining the walls.  
“This place actually belongs to Abe.”  
I was curious how Eli was affording the rent in this neighborhood. She’s hinted that her grandparents are wealthy, and her dad’s done well, but I know how much real estate in Los Angeles costs.  
“Eli technically owns the ranch, so…”  
“Her grandfather, right?” I remember that conversation from weeks ago. I’m just putting the pieces together.  
Jayden nods. “They’ve traded property for now.”  
“Oh.” I study the awards on the wall, her dad’s name printed neatly on all of them, trying to think of another subject of conversation.

I can feel Jayden assessing me.  
“She told Milo about you.”  
I don’t know how to respond to that. “Is this the part where you threaten me?”  
Jayden laughs. “There’s this story, Milo likes to tell, about Eli punching out a lead singer.”  
“I’m familiar.”  
“He repeats it to every man Eli ever works closely with, because they’re usually bigger than she is, and he thinks it’s a good reminder; she might be a hundred pounds of twiggy, but she isn’t helpless. Eli can take care of herself. She doesn’t need me to protect her.”  
“I know.” Eli is the most capable girl I’ve ever known. She has her life together, and I’ve found that attractive from the beginning.  
“Good.” Jayden’s look turns slightly feral, “You should know though, the lead singer? He woke up with green hair, covered in wax stripes. Milo isn’t physically imposing either, but he can be an absolute sadist.” He tilts his head the direction we left them, “And Eli is his person.”  
“Doesn’t that bother you?” I have to ask. “Milo said you don’t get jealous, but you’re marrying him, don’t you want to be his person?”  
He considers me. “Is this about him being hers?”  
“I…” I don’t know. “No. Not really…” I don’t have the right way to explain it. I enjoy how electric Eli is with Milo. I'm just looking for some kind of reassurance I always will.  
“No. It doesn’t bother me.” Jayden interrupts. “Listen, people have told me from the start, their relationship will fuck up ours, but that’s never happened. Instead, in the beginning, Eli fought for us, when Milo might not have. She didn’t do it out of any loyalty for me, she’s my friend too, but in this, I’m irrelevant.” He shrugs, “Eli would do anything for him, and she thinks I’m good for him. Her wanting us to be together, it has nothing to do with me.”

I’m not sure what to say to that. I don't know how to make Milo want want her to be with me.

  
“Milo likes the way you look at her.”  
“What?”  
Jayden shakes his head, “He confessed, once, when it was really late and he was really drunk, how much he hated the way Colton looked at Eli.”  
I arch a brow, when I saw Colton with her, all I could see was fondness.  
“Like she’s nice, it pissed Milo off. Eli’s a lot of things, but she isn’t nice.”  
I must look skeptical.  
“She’s kind, and clearly sweet on you, but she's not nice. She and Milo both, they’re not water. They’re fire.”  
“Delicate and dangerous.” I have to agree.  
“Exactly.” He smirks. “You look at her like you’d be consumed, burning for her.”  
I exit the room, trying to ignore how transparent that makes me.  
“If it’s any consolation, I’ve never seen her look at anyone the way she looks at you.” Jayden follows me out, flipping the light off.  
“How’s that?” I have to ask.  
“Like she wants to try.”

 

In the living room, Milo lifts Eli, setting her down on his shoulder, holding her there with one hand. Her arm raised above her head nearly touches the ceiling. He takes two steps forward like that, with her balanced there, before setting her back on the ground. His hands neatly wrapped around her waist.  
“Keep that.” Jayden says from behind me, and their heads turn towards us.  
“I’m not convinced.” Eli scrunches her nose.  
“I’m telling you.” Jayden moves around me, “The more lifts…”  
“The more views.” Milo and Eli chorus, giggling.  
“It’s true.” Jayden drones.  
Milo rolls his eyes. “We’re making art, not money.”  
“What you’re doing is making me starve. Come on.” He gestures towards them. “Go get dressed.”  
They comply, Eli squeezing my wrist as she slides past me, down the hall to her room.  
She pulls jeans on over her leotard, and Milo finds a shirt before he drives us to pick up dinner from a Chinese place I’ve never been to.  
We eat dinner around her living room, watching trashy reality television. Apparently, Jayden’s a fan.  
Eli gets inspired at some point, leaping from her seat on the sofa beside me, directing Milo though choreography, perfectly executing a different, even more impressive lift in the middle of the living room.  
They chatter back and forth about it, Milo taking out his phone to note it down, and neither of them can stop smiling.

It’s dark when I tell Eli, regretfully, “ I should probably head home. Curfew at the compound.” She pouts, just a little, up at me. At some point, she'd slipped down, using my thigh as a pillow, her legs thrown across Milo's lap.  
Jayden looks at Milo, “We should go to bed.”  
Milo starts to protest, but Jayden gives him a look, stopping him. Milo blushes, “Lo siento, lo siento.” He whispers to Eli, leaving us alone.  
Eli looks embarrassed too. “Sorry. They’re…” She sits up.  
“They’re great.” I tell her truthfully, “I think your friends are great.”  
She looks up at me from under her lashes, “I think so too. Thank you for coming.”  
“I’m really glad you invited me.”  
“What would you have been doing?”  
"If I hadn't come here?" I play with her braid, “Chipotle with the guys, probably.”  
“Don’t you ever get sick of it?”   
“No.” I tug lightly at her hair, “I know what I like, and I don’t change my mind.”  
Her breath catches with my implication.  
“Never?” Her eyes bore into mine.  
“Not about the important things.”

When I make my mind up, when I decide on something, I stick to it. Baseball, singing, Chipotle.  
Her.  
We haven’t even been out a real date yet, and I already know. I’m in love with her.

 

Eli kisses me, before I can say anything else, and I’m ten minutes late.  
It’s worth it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	12. Fly Me To The Moon

 

It’s been over a week since that night at Eli’s house, but tonight we’re both free. I’ve been ready for a hour, impatiently waiting for her.

Jack finally tosses a controller at me, in a bid stop my compulsive pacing. “Chill, bro.”  
“I’m taking Eli out.” I sit down next to Zach on the couch, tugging at my hair.  
“Everyone knows.” Zach kicks at me. “You’ve been kissing her for weeks, what’s the big deal?”  
“She doesn’t date, or hasn’t since the ex. I want to impress her.” I pause, “Or at least not scare her away.”  
“You won’t.” Jack starts the game, grinning wickedly, “If your dancing didn’t repel her, I don’t think anything will.”  
Zach bursts into laugher, and I shake my head. It does make me feel strangely better though.

 

‘Here’ I see the message right before Daniel yells, “Door!”  
I jump up, abandoning our game, racing to get to the door before the rest of the guys.  
Too bad for me, Daniel’s loud. By the time I’m there, they’re all crowded behind me.  
I take a breath, straighten my jacket, and pull it open.

Eli’s wearing skinny jeans, boots, and some black tank with lace dipping nearly to her bellybutton.  
She looks unreal.  
Her eyelashes are painted black, and her hair is down, a cascade of blonde curls. She smiles at me, tucking it behind her ears.

“Holy shit.” Jack says from somewhere behind me. Daniel chokes.  
“Damn, girl.” That’s Corbyn, “You look nice.” Zach whistles.

Something about their idiocy loosens the set of her shoulders. I scramble out of the doorway, slamming it on them.  
“Hi Jo.” She ignores the catcalls.  
“Hi.” I catch her hand, “You’re beautiful.”  
“You look good too.”  
“Glad you think so.” I lead her up the driveway.  
She smirks, “I like your jacket.”  
I laugh, because I stole it after she told me she liked at a video shoot. I’m wearing shoes she’d picked out one day, too.  
I open her car door, then jog around to the other side to climb in.

After I tell the driver the address, Eli turns to me. “Where exactly are we going?” She spins her bracelet. I’ve seen her do this enough to recognize the nervous habit.  
“You’ll like it. Who gave you that?”  
“My bracelet?”  
“Yeah.”  
She holds her wrist up for me. Looking at it better, I can tell that it’s one of those Cartier bracelets. The kind that don’t come off. “Milo has the screwdriver.”  
“It looks good on you.” She never wears other jewelry, I don’t even think her ears are pierced, but the band of gold around her wrist is seamless. It suits her.  
Her hands settle in her lap, “When Attitude started making money, I wouldn’t take it. My grandparents were always going to pay for me to go to college. Milo didn’t have that security. So at first, it all went towards a savings account.”  
Four years at Julliard couldn’t have been cheap. She says it like it was never a question. It strikes me as so Eli to give him that. Of course she would.  
“Then we both got scholarships, and the channel kept making money. Milo got me the bracelet for Christmas, before we opened the first Studio, and he kept the tool to remove it. It’s a promise. We put each other before money.”  
“The guys and I want to get matching tattoos.” I hold up my fist, “Little one-fifths on our mic hands.”  
“You should.” She runs her index finger down the spot the tattoo would go, “It’s nice, to have the reminder sometimes, life is bigger than the business.”  
“Who you do the thing with matters more than the thing.”  
“Exactly.” She dimples.

When we arrive at the restaurant, I sprint around the car to get her door. She takes my hand, climbing out to join me on the curb. I keep her hand in mine during the elevator ride, and watch her take in where we’re going.  
Eli doesn’t say a word, until we’re seated at our table, overlooking the city. “I didn’t expect this.” She’s happy though, craning her neck to look around, like an overexcited kid.  
“I wanted it to be special.”  
She hooks her ankle over mine. “This is crazy. You could have taken me for tacos and I wouldn’t have complained.”  
I shrug, “You make me crazy.”  
She blushes, then our waiter interrupts.

Eli drinks water even at fancy restaurants, and makes me laugh so hard with a story about Milo getting their first tattoo, my pop nearly comes out my nose. We smile until my checks ache, and it’s just easy with her.  
When our pasta appears, Eli almost dips her hair in it, leaning over. She frowns, pulling her hair neatly back into a bun.  
“I like it that way.”  
“You do? Everyone tells me to wear it down more.”  
“You look like yourself with a bun.” Eli’s all angles, sharpened by ballet, and the bun accentuates that. Her cheekbones could give paper cuts; her hair pulled back draws attention there. “It’s nice down, too, but…” I tap my foot against hers, “I like you for you.”  
“Thank you.” She says, sincerely. She tucks into her food, and I do too.  
It might not be worth what they’re going to charge me for it, but the opportunity to be here with Eli is worth every dime.

 

A band starts playing while we’re eating, and when we’re finished, I let her lead me out to the dance floor. It’s a few older couples and us, swaying together.  
Her top rides up, and I thumb at the silky smooth skin of her hip. Her hand is cold in mine, her touch gentle on my shoulder.  
I like the way we move together.  
She never falters, even when I trip up, she corrects us effortlessly.  
Eli dances like gravity doesn’t exist. Her body isn’t anchored to something so mundane.  
I dance like I have cement in my bones, and all of her gravitational pull is acting on me.  
It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.  
We don’t say anything, but with her I don’t have to.  
I spin her out, and dip her, thinking I could do this forever.

When the band plays Sinatra, I hold her tighter and sing in her ear,

‘Fly me to the moon  
Let me play among the stars  
Let me see what spring is like  
On Jupiter and Mars  
In other words, hold my hand  
In other words, baby, kiss me’

I stop myself at the chorus, letting the band speak the words I haven’t yet.  
When that song ends, Eli steps back to applaud. The singer winks at me, bowing for her.

“We should go to the beach.” She declares as we drift back to our table.  
“Okay.” I flag our waiter down to pay.  
“Now?”  
“Why not?”  
She grins, lifting one shoulder.

 

  
We pile into a cab downstairs, laughing ridiculously.  
Eli pays when it stops, and I stumble out after her.  
She kicks her boots off at the pier, and I follow her lead, praying they’ll still be there when we get back.

  
We walk for a while, kicking our feet in the sand and sea. When she shivers, I take my jacket off, to put on on her shoulders. She wears it better than I do.

“I wanted to bury my mother here.” Eli splashes at the water.  
“At the beach?”  
“In the ocean. You can scatter ashes, if you’re out far enough.”  
“I’ve heard that.”  
“My grandparents vetoed.” She looks to me, “She’s actually buried in Minnesota.”  
I raise a brow, “Really?”  
“She was living there, when it happened. She had always liked it, said it reminded her of Laura Ingalls Wilder.”  
“Little House on the Prairie?”  
“Those were the only books she ever read to me. I still have her copies.” Eli nods, “She’s in Springfield.”  
“That’s not far from Stillwater.”  
“I know.” She looks back out, “I’ll take you someday. The cemetery is really peaceful.”  
“I’d like that.” I push the sand with my toes, “You should come home with me. My sisters are dying to meet you, and I know my Mom will love you.”  
Eli’s eyes go wide, “You told them about me?”  
“Of course, I did. Svea thinks you’re too cool for me, and Esther teases me mercilessly about the dancing.”  
She shakes her head, one half of her mouth quirked up.  
“You should be my date for my brother’s wedding.” The idea occurs to me suddenly, “I’m best man. It would be more fun with you there.”  
“I don’t think you can invite me without asking him, Jo.”  
“So I’ll ask. Will you come?”  
“I…” She starts, moving up into the sand. “How is this going to work?”  
“How is what going to work?”  
“This. Us.” She sits down, “You’re building a career. I’m expanding my business. Half of my work is still on the other side of the country. Even purely the logistics of this, makes my head spin.”  
“We’ll figure it out.”  
“You can’t know that.” She wraps her arms around her knees.  
“No.”  
“What do you mean, no? I’m…”  
“No.” I cut her off, “We’re not doubting this now. I’m sorry, but we’re in too deep, Gorgeous.”

I reach out to tuck that contest fly-away behind her ear, gathering every ounce of courage I possess. “You’re the most confusing person I’ve ever met, and you don’t even know it. You never reveal anything without asking for just as much in return, and yet, somehow, you’re the most honest person in this town.”  
I stare into her eyes, “I already know I want to spend the rest of my life unraveling you, because when I look at you; I see fifty years from now on a porch behind a house full of music.”  
I take a deep breath, “I see my entire future, Eli. When you dimple at me, I go dumb, and I know how much work this is going to be. I know exactly how much effort you require, and I am in love with you anyway.”

She freezes. I lie back in the sand, letting my words settle. Eli’s deliberate. I know she has to overthink her next move before she makes it. I can wait her out.

She melts back, after moment, laying down next to me, her face pressed into my shoulder. She kisses at neck, “I want to know that you’re drinking enough water, and when your planes land safely.”  
“What?” It sinks in, even as I ask. Those are the things I told her I wanted, weeks ago.  
She kisses a little higher up, “I want to be the first person you text good morning, and your last goodnight.”  
Eli's mouth is feather-light on my skin, “I want the other half of your bed, your laundry, and your power bills.”  
Another kiss, “I desperately want that fifty years off porch with you.”  
Finally, whispered in my ear, “I want your real last name.”  
Now I’m frozen. I can’t move a muscle. Her hair tickles at my skin, and I can’t begin to imagine the mess this is going to make, but I don’t care.  
“I'm in love with you, too.” She moves back, to look me in the eyes, “I’ve never felt like this before.”

I move then, cradling her head in my hands to kiss her, and we roll around in the sand until my jacket is ruined and our lips bitten red.

 

 

 

Eli is nothing I expected, not in a choreographer, not in friend, and certainly not in a girl I’d fall in love with. None of that matters, now.  
She's gorgeous, driven, witty, and impossibly, into me.

In return, I’m completely enchanted by her. I’m so under her spell, she’s under my skin, and I know I’ll still think that’s a gift when I’m ninety.

  
She’s not wrong, to be worried about the logistics. Our careers are fickle, there are contracts and managers and fans to worry about.  
That will never make this painless, it won’t be easy, but that's all details.

Eli's in love with me, and that’s enough.  
That’s _everything_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> For S. 
> 
> Because you said, 'There's this band, could you write them for me?'
> 
> And because when I said, 'I'd name a girl, Eli.'  
> You said, 'That's okay. Any girl of yours will be a badass, they'd pull it off.'  
> I hope this one fulfills expectations.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Kudos and comments are always so appreciated!   
> Thank you for spending your time here.


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